


Little Orphan Charlie

by r2metoo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Adoption, Fluff, Kidnapping, M/M, Milton Family, Orphanage, Poverty, Rags to Riches, Starvation, allusion to corporal punishment, annie au, but nothing graphic, no actual punishment, slight description of animal abuse as depicted in the movie annie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-01 14:36:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4023574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r2metoo/pseuds/r2metoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie is an orphan who gets a once in a lifetime opportunity to spend a week with billionaire mogul Castiel Milton. Castiel's PA, Dean Winchester, isn't willing to let it last for only a week, though. He has to find a way to help his reclusive boss open his heart to a little girl that's already stolen his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's a Hard-Knock Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Powerfulweak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Powerfulweak/gifts).



There wasn’t a whole lot remarkable about the Third Street orphanage. Like all of the other dwellings on the street, it was an old tenement, though one of the larger ones. A fire escape criss-crossed the rear of the building, and a fenced-in plot of concrete was a maze of clotheslines strung with clothes and sheets.

 

The curtains in the windows appeared to be old bed sheets, washed so many times as to make them threadbare, and hanging so long that they were now bleached so that any embellishment or print on the sheet were now lost to memory. The entire aspect of the building was that of dilapidation and disrepair, but it matched the buildings surrounding it. The street itself was usually regarded as a slum, but most of the residents had window boxes with bright flowers to attempt to cheer the street up.

 

Of the inmates of the orphanage, very little was known. They could be seen now and then, walking in circles in the postage stamp back yard, messy hair piled on their heads, necks dirty, shoes either too small or too big, clothes with more patches than actual whole cloth. Any complaints the neighbors might make to the local authority were ignored, and seemed to only make the matriarch of the orphanage more reclusive with her charges.

 

There was one child, though, that seemed to be more noticeable than the others. The drab, dirtiness of her surroundings only made her red hair seem brighter; but more than that, she seemed more lively, more interesting, and more in trouble than all the other girls combined. If the police ever actually made their way to the orphanage, it was almost always with the redhead in tow, and she was usually sporting a few extra bruises to show for whatever adventure she might have just had. She and some of the other girls also liked to sit in the window of the third floor and sing when they weren’t busy doing chores.

 

“Betcha she reads,” Charlie, the redhead, sang into the night. “Betcha he sews.”

 

“Betcha he’s made me a closet of clothes,” Kristy sang, joining Charlie at the window.

 

“Maybe they’re strict, straight as a line,” Claire added. “Don’t really care, as long as they’re mine.”

 

Charlie smiled at her friends, then finished the song with them, “So maybe now this prayer’s the last one of its kind: won’t you please come get your baby?”

 

“Maybe,” Claire sighed. Poor Claire. Her dad had lost everything during the 2000 crash, and he went crazy, then decided he was an angel. Unfortunately, it turned out he couldn’t fly. He discovered this when he tried to “fly” off the Chrysler building. Claire’s mother had disappeared shortly after that. No one knew where she went.

 

Krissy’s mom had died when she was young, and then her father was killed a few years earlier in a hunting accident. She didn’t have anybody else, at least, no one willing to take her in.

 

“What are you two doing up?” Charlie asked, looking back into the night sky.

 

“Had a nightmare,” Krissy whispered, sitting next to Charlie.

 

“Krissy woke me up,” Claire said.

 

Charlie fingered the locket around her neck. Her parents had left it with her when they had brought her to the orphanage ten years ago. The gold locket was split it in half, leaving her one, and keeping the other for themselves, so she would know them when they came for her. The only thing that Charlie couldn’t figure out was why they hadn’t come for her yet. Ten years had to have been enough time, right?

 

Charlie wrapped an arm around Krissy’s neck and pulled her close. “There, there,” she said. “It’s over now.”

 

They were hit in the face by a pillow. “Pipe down!” one of the older girls ordered. “Or you’re going to wake up—“

 

She was interrupted by the dorm room door opening. There stood Miss Masters, silk robe open, revealing lacy lingerie in devil red. Her wild black hair was piled on her head in a messy bun, and she had obviously fallen asleep with blood red lipstick on, as it was smeared over her cheek. “Did I hear _singing_?” she demanded around an unlit cigarette.

 

Charlie and the other girls in the dorm groaned. They were already waking up and putting on their clothes and shoes, because they knew that Miss Masters was going to now wake them all up and get them to working.

 

“If you have time to sing, you have time to clean!” She declared. “Now get to work, and don’t stop until this dump shines like the top of the Chrysler building!”

 

It was a direct jab at Claire, who was one of the singing culprits.

 

“Oh, and be sure to thank Charlie and her little friends for your midnight cleaning spree!” Miss Masters called out while the girls trudged up and down the stairs, going to their stations to clean their areas.

 

Charlie’s designated sector was the bathroom, where Miss Masters said there was little chance for her to make mischief. This proved true for the most part, but on this morning, the house was in such  turmoil due to everyone being woken up five hours too early, so it was easy for Charlie to take all of the soiled towels and bath mats out to the back yard and pull down the sheets that had been put on the clotheslines, bundle everything up, and then hide herself in the laundry cart. From there, it was smooth sailing.

 

Her first taste of fresh breath was worth the dirty towels and pee-soaked sheets she’d hidden under. “Thanks, Mr. Thackery!” she called to the bemused laundry man when she hoisted herself out of the cart.

 

“Charlie!” he called after her in vain. “Wait! You can’t just…”

 

But she was already in the wind, ready to stroll along whichever street this was, pretending she had parents who cared about her. Just like the girls playing hopscotch in front of the candy store (and maybe she looked longingly in the window for more time than was reasonable), or the kids following their mother into the seamstress, where a pretty white dress hung on a mannequin.

 

What she couldn’t ignore, what she didn’t want to participate in, however, was when she came upon a group of boys, tormenting a stray cat.

 

“Hey, what’re you doing?” she demanded, breaking them away from the cat, who was currently sporting a bunch of tin cans on its tail.

 

“Hey, scram little girl!” the biggest boy sneered.

 

“Yeah, we don’t wanna hurt you!” another chimed in.

 

Charlie looked down, as though they had defeated her. Her size tended to fool bullies into thinking she wasn’t much, since she was small and wiry. But you didn’t live in an orphanage for as long as she had if you didn’t have guts or fighting skills. Quick as a snake, Charlie punched the bigger boy in the stomach, and then the other boy got a good kick to his shins.

 

“Who’s next?” she asked, balling her tiny fists at the boys.

 

“She’s crazy!” the first one said, turning and running.

 

“Ha!” Charlie crowed, then turned to the cat and untied the cans from his tail. “Stupid boys. Can’t stand ‘em. Okay, you’re free now. Stay away from them, okay?” Charlie turned, and continued her sojourn through the city, jumping lightly when a cold, wet nose hit against her hand when she stopped to look in a Game Stop window. “Cat! I told you: don’t follow me. Seriously. Am-scray.”

 

The cat seemed determined to stay with her, so she grudgingly allowed it to come along. Besides, it was a black cat, and that sort of made her think of Darth Vader, and that was cool. She guessed. But it wouldn’t do to get attached. Miss Masters would never go for a cat at the orphanage. She barely liked _children_ at the orphanage.

 

The cat sat in front of a trashcan and meowed plaintively, its sharp white teeth a stark contrast to its black fur.

 

“You want food? Do I look like a freakin’ drive through?”

 

The cat mewled again, this time pitifully, and Charlie scooped it into one of the gaping pockets of her cargo shorts. Like all of the clothes at the orphanage, they didn’t belong to her, and they were hand-me-downs, worn so many times that they were nearly threadbare. They weren’t even girls shorts, they were for boys, but Charlie didn’t care. Clothes of any kind held no fascination for her. She’d never been allowed to pick them out, and she’d see any number of girls wearing them at some point during her stay at the orphanage. What she did like about these particular shorts was the pockets. Four of them, pleated for width and depth, and the tiny cat fit perfectly in the big one on her thigh.

 

“Okay, you want some food? Let’s try and be stealthy. No talking.”

 

Charlie spotted a news stand, and scanned it quickly. A package of peanut M&M’s were near the corner, and she was pretty confident she could nab one without being seen. She moved confidently, like someone who had someplace to go. She’d learned a long time ago that you drew more attention to yourself when you looked like you were trying to hide something, so she acted like she meant to be out wearing the same clothes she’d worn for the past week, like she didn’t own a comb or a shower or a bed of her own. Just a normal kid, yeah.

 

Five steps until she reached the news stand.

 

 

 

 

“What do you think you’re doing?”

 

Charlie had been so intent on the news stand that she hadn’t been paying attention to the street or the other people on the sidewalk, so she hadn’t noticed a cop car pull up, or an officer get out of it. She looked up and up until she saw a tall man with pale hair. She recognized him from the orphanage, and he’d brought her home a few times. What was his name? Az-something.

 

“Just taking a walk,” Charlie said, shrugging. “Lovely day, isn’t it, officer?”

 

“You think I don’t know who you are, little girl? You’re coming with me.”

 

Charlie was forced to get into the back of the car. “Are we going for ice cream? I hear you cops like to take kids out for ice cream.”

 

“Kid, I could hand you a plate full of shit, and you wouldn’t know that it wasn’t ice cream.”

 

Charlie crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. “Well, I’d know it was a plate of shit at least.” So what if she’d never had ice cream? Lots of people never had it.

 

“You shouldn’t talk like that,” Officer Az-hole said in his odd nasally voice. “Pretty little girl like you shouldn’t say ugly, filthy things.” Then he laughed to himself like he’d just told the funniest joke in jokerdom.

 

Charlie just rolled her eyes and watched the city go by until they were back on her dingy street, in front of the dingy townhouse for orphans, and she was being walked back up the scrubbed and cleaned brick stairs where officer Az-hole rang the bell and waited until Miss Masters answered the door. Charlie just hoped she’d finally put on some clothes.

 

“Officer Azazel!” Thank Ipthar, she had. Of course, Miss Masters’ idea of clothes and Charlie’s idea of clothes could be two different things at times. Miss Masters currently had on a pair of skinny jeans that were so tight, they appeared to be painted on, and her T-shirt was the sort that had the collar ripped off so it slid down one shoulder, and a huge pair of red lips was printed on it. Charlie had a feeling that as ugly as the outfit was, Miss Masters had spent more money on it than she had on the whole of the wardrobe for the entire orphanage.

 

“Miss Masters, I found one of your pretty flowers blooming out on the streets.”

 

Miss Masters made a distressed face and pressed Charlie to her bosom. “Charlie! Oh goodness! I’ve been worried sick about you!”

 

From the smell of things, Miss Masters had been drowning her sorrows in tequila.

 

“I knew you would be,” Officer Azazel said with a smarmy smile. “You’re so…kind-hearted.”

 

Charlie knew when to make a strategic retreat. If Miss Masters wasn’t above being wooed by this Neanderthal, then Charlie wasn’t above using the distraction to her advantage. She still had the kitten in her pocket, and it was thankfully being quiet, but it was starting to squirm. She knew she had to get it out and give it something to eat soon. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what Miss Masters would do if she saw it.

 

“Charlie!” Claire whispered when she walked by the rec room. The girls were allowed to watch TV (it was an old heavy thing in a big wooden box that got really poor reception, but it was better than nothing) if they were doing something productive. Claire, Krissy, and a few other girls were patching up clothes and sewing some new ones with a bolt of truly hideous green calico. Still, it was better than nothing.

 

Charlie darted into the room, closed the door behind herself, and hid behind the sofa that was sitting against the window. Claire and Krissy joined her, and she pulled the kitten from her pocket.

 

“Oh!” Krissy cooed.

 

“You’re going to finally make her kill you,” Claire said. “It is really cute, though.”

 

Before Charlie could answer, Miss Masters slammed the door open. “Where is she?”

 

They all knew who she meant, so Charlie shoved the kitten back into her pocket and stood up.

 

“You. Paddle closet. Now!”

 

The paddle closet was a small closet in Miss Masters’ office. It was in the very center of the townhouse, and nothing could be heard of the outside in there, and any crying or begging couldn’t be heard outside. If Miss Masters would just punish whoever had to go in there, it probably wouldn’t have been so bad. However, she liked to let her prodigal children sit and stew in their own juices. Rumor had it that one girl spent three days in the closet. Charlie had always thought that sounded really extreme, until Miss Masters threw a metal pail in after her.

 

“Your bathroom,” She sneered when Charlie raised her eyebrows in question over the pail.

 

“Gross,” she muttered as she sank into complete darkness.

 

Of course, it wouldn’t be that bad. She had her tools. She could break out of any locked area at any time. She just figured if she didn’t kick up a fuss, Miss Masters would never believe she was truly suffering.

 

}o{

 

Castiel Milton was not the most visible member of the wealthy Milton family, but he was one of the most well-known, being that he was the wealthiest. Unlike most of the Milton clan, however, he was practically invisible. Castiel did not go in for large displays, preferring rather to live simply in a two-story, eight bedroom penthouse with only the smallest compendium of staff staying on with him.

 

There was the housekeeper/cook who kept things clean and everyone fed, his driver/bodyguard, and his personal assistant/bodyguard. Besides them, there were any number of folks coming in and out in a day. The housekeeper had a few maids who would come by three times a week for a thorough cleaning, since Mr. Milton was somewhat of a neat freak, and then there was a personal trainer who taught Castiel the art of self-protection, yoga, and meditation, and a music teacher who was studiously attempting to show Castiel how to play the harp competently.

 

Castiel was content to live in obscurity with only his staff to keep him company, but a scandal with one of his cousins and a sex tape, and a brother running for office, the rest of the family was called upon to restore the good Milton name. Castiel was suddenly thrust into a more active role, even though he had branched off from the family company into his own, much more lucrative business.

 

It was decided that Castiel would do something bold, truly make a statement about his brother’s family values, but it had to be in a more liberal way since Castiel appeared to be a confirmed bachelor. To that end, Castiel would appear to adopt a child, and Castiel was adamant that he would simply appear to adopt the child, as he clearly did not have the room for such a creature in his home.

 

Mr. Winchester, his personal assistant, was the one who would pick out the creature. Someone small and meek, Mr. Milton had determined. Visible enough for the press, but not so visible as to overpower the true objective of putting Michael into office and subsequently out of Castiel’s hair.

 

The publicity agent had mentioned something about photo ops and interviews, but Mr. Winchester knew that Mr. Milton would never remember such a thing. He would have to remind him of it, after the child came. As always.

 

“I don’t like the idea of you going into that area of the city alone, Mr. Winchester,” Mr. Milton said to him when he was checking to be sure he had everything he needed in order to obtain an orphan. “You should have your brother drive you in one of my cars.”

 

Mr. Winchester waved him off. “Your safety is more important, Sir. Sam will go with you in one of your cars. I can care for both myself and the child.”

 

Mr. Milton attempted to protest again, but in the end, Mr. Winchester won the argument. “I’m not a target without you, Sir,” he said.

 

Mr. Winchester was more than capable of taking care of himself, actually, and he arrived at the Third Street Orphanage before noon and rang the bell, astonished at the lack of sound from inside. He was expecting shrieking, perhaps. At least voices and sounds of some sort. He nearly jumped back when the door was wrenched open and a half-naked woman answered.

 

“What?” she demanded, looking him over. A cigarette dangled from her lips, and her hand held a juice glass that smelled like it was more vodka than orange juice.

 

Mr. Winchester smiled. “Miss Masters, my name is Dean Winchester, and the Board of Orphans sent me here.”

 

The woman’s demeanor changed completely in a second. She practically spit the cigarette into the cup, then threw the cup out in the nearest potted plant. It was interesting to watch, since the vodka had caught fire from the cigarette, and now the whole thing was sort of smoldering in the dried up soil of the dead plant.

 

“Oh, Mr. Winchester!” Miss Masters simpered. “Goodness! I didn’t think you’d come so soon!” She opened the door all the way and beckoned him to follow her into the house. Dean ducked inside, and ignored the exaggerated sway of her hips as she led him to an office that was filthier than the floors on the subway. “I had no idea she was gone!” Miss Masters continued. “Naturally, I was panicked when I realized, but by that time, Officer Azazel had already returned her, and you know, her disciplinary file is  thicker than my arm!”

 

Mr. Winchester pulled his eyebrows together. “Miss Masters, I don’t know what it is you are speaking of.” Taking a formal air always aided Mr. Milton, so Dean did the same thing on occasion, and he had never regretted it.

 

Miss Master’s demeanor immediately changed, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s this about then? Don’t tell me you’re trying to sell me encyclopedias or some shit like that. We don’t need no books in here!”

 

Dean cleared his throat and darted his eyes around the room. “Of course not, Madam. As I was saying earlier, the Board of Orphans sent me here to select a child to come and live with Mr. Castiel Milton for a week.”

 

Miss Masters slammed a thick folder onto the desk. “Castiel Milton the millionaire?”

 

“Castiel Milton the billionaire,” Dean amended.

 

Miss Masters opened a drawer and pulled out a few files. “What kinda kid does he want? I got tall ones, short ones, blondes, brunettes, redheads…”

 

Dean heard a scuffling from behind the door to his right, and he looked over to see a young redhead peeking out of someplace dark. “Red is good,” he said with a sly wink to the girl. He couldn’t imagine what she was doing in there, but he figured she was hiding, probably from another girl she was playing with.

 

“Age range?”

 

The little girl opened her hand twice. “Ten?”

 

Dean was smiling at the child, but his mood changed abruptly when Miss Masters slammed down her file, then forcibly closed the door and furiously turned a key in the lock. “No. No children meet that description.”

 

Dean went cold. What the hell was this woman going to do to this little girl? He stood up and unlocked the door, then opened it to find a dusty closet and the little girl standing in the middle of it wearing little more than tatters. Now that he was looking at her better, he could see how dirty she was, and that her shoes were full of holes and her hair needed a comb pretty desperately.

 

“This one, Miss Masters,” he demanded.

 

“No,” she shot back, just as rigid.

 

“This one, or I’ll have the Board of Orphans here within an hour, going over your records, your accounts, your _room_ where a very suspicious and herbal smell is—“

 

“Enough! Fine! Take her!” Miss Masters pushed her dark hair out of her face and lifted her chin. “But don’t you dare bring her back!”

 

Dean nearly growled. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

 

He grabbed the kid by the hand and started out with her.

 

“You’ll regret taking her,” she taunted.

 

Dean snorted. “I’m sure I will.”

 

He practically threw the kid into the front seat of his Impala—a classic that he drove when not on business without Mr. Milton—and followed behind her, bumping her until she was on the passenger side.

 

“Seatbelt,” he ordered, strapping himself in. When he was younger, he never did such a thing, but Mr. Milton always insisted on safety first. Mr. Milton even attempted to persuade Dean to give up his classic car, but he wouldn’t hear of it.

 

The little girl looked very young and fragile in the passenger seat, where Dean was used to seeing his brother lounging. Sam was about three times larger than the kid.

 

“What’s your name, anyway?”

 

The little girl looked up at him with deep brown eyes that seemed far too wise for her young age. “Charlie. Uh…Mr. Winchester. Sir.”

 

Dean smiled and patted her head, even though it was dirty and he almost immediately regretted it. “Just call me Dean, kiddo.”

 

Charlie looked like she was going to say something, but a pathetic meow filled the silence instead.

 

“What was that?” Dean asked.

 

“What was what?”

 

“That!” he repeated when another meow interrupted.

 

Charlie started fidgeting at her pocket, and Dean realized that there was something moving in there.

 

“Oh no, sister. No cats.”

 

Charlie pulled a small black kitten from her pocket. “If Vader can’t come, then…” she bit her lip. “Then I can’t come either. I’m sorry, Mr. W—Dean. I’m sorry, but… some _boys_ weretyingcanstohistailandI _had_ tosavehimIjust _had_ toyoudon’tunderstand…”

 

Dean lifted his hand. She had him already, and like it or not, Dean was a sucker for a hard-luck story. He should have known better. Besides, Mr. Milton tended to like cats. “Let’s just go.”

 

The drive was pretty quiet, as Charlie was looking out the window most of the way, even after Dean drove through a burger place and got them each something to eat along with chocolate milkshakes. He didn’t miss how Charlie ate like a starving person—quickly and with furtive glances, not wasting a drop of anything—and wondered what exactly he could do. His threat to Miss Masters was hollow at best, but she didn’t need to know that. He did think that he might be able to get the ball rolling, though. Red tape in government unraveled slowly, but maybe he could make a difference in the orphanage? He hoped?

 

At the apartment building, Dean parked in the underground garage, where Mr. Milton had several spots blocked off for his live-in staff. Charlie looked completely baffled by everything, and appeared to be barely restraining herself from pressing every button in the elevator.

 

“Everything has a number except these ones, Dean,” Charlie said, indicating “L,” “G,” and “P.”

 

Dean pulled out his black card. “Would you like to press the one that says “P?”” he asked, smiling at Charlie’s enthusiastic nodding. “Okay, when I swipe my card, you push it.”

 

He had to lift her so she could reach the button, and it made him feel very strange inside to think that something so small gave her so much pleasure.

 

“You can feel the ground moving under you!” she said. “Wow! Is this like a roller coaster?”

 

Dean added “Amusement Park” to the list of things he wanted to do with Charlie before she had to go back to that godawful place. Not that he was going to let her go back there, to that woman.

 

The penthouse took up the entire top floor, and had exclusive access to the roof, where there was a small garden, an endless pool that doubled as a hot tub, and a bistro area where Mr. Milton usually took his breakfast and was briefed for his day by Dean. Dean couldn’t wait to show it all to Charlie. He watched her face as he opened the front door.

 

Inside, the staff was cleaning under Benny’s direction, and Dean could smell something wonderful  baking in the kitchen. Dean pulled Charlie in from the foyer, and Benny immediately moved towards the two of them.

 

“Mr. Winchester,” he drawled. “Who is our new guest?”

 

“Benny, this is Charlie. Charlie, this is Benny Lafitte, our housekeeper and cook.”

 

Benny leaned over the girl and kissed both of her cheeks. “ _En chante, chéri_ ,” he murmured, making her blush. “Might I take your sweater?”

 

Charlie leaned away from Benny. “Will I get it back?”

 

Dean and Benny both chuckled. “Of course, _ma belle_. I only mean to keep it safe for you.”

 

Charlie reluctantly surrendered her threadbare, moth-eaten sweater that Dean was determined to never let her wear again if he could help it.

 

“A guest is here for you, Hoss, in the parlor.”

 

Dean steered Charlie into the parlor where he found Miss Harvelle, who was Castiel’s brother’s press secretary. It had been her idea to boost the Milton image with Charlie, an idea that was starting to seem more and more cruel to Dean by the minute. Was a child supposed to simply go back to a place like the one where she had been living, after having sampled the extreme good fortune of Castiel Milton’s life?

 

“Mr. Winchester!” Miss Harvelle said, standing and looking Charlie over. “Well, I don’t want her to look particularly put together for the photoshoot, but we can’t have her _this_ downtrodden. The public would think she was being abused.”

 

“Fancy that,” Dean deadpanned. “Miss Harvelle, why not run on exposé on the orphanage Charlie came from? Really address the issue of orphan abuse.”

 

Miss Harvelle pursed her lips. “Would it help Mr. Michael Milton win his election?”

 

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps.”

 

“Then there’s your answer. As for this one…” Miss Harvelle unlocked her phone and selected a programmed number, then began a series of phone calls that all went the same way. “Red hair, brown eyes, freckles, about ten, but small and thin for her age. Send a tailor as well, we want things fitted to her. Send a hair dresser as well.”

 

Dean felt a headache by the time she was done, and only Benny approaching them with the promise of pecan pie made him feel better.

 

“Do you like anything particular to drink, Miss Charlie?” Benny asked as he led them to the dining room.

 

“Do…do you have milk?”

 

Benny winked at her. “I think we can swing milk, _chéri_.”

 

Charlie pulled the kitten out of her pocket. “Good, because I think Vader would like some.”

 

Benny raised an eyebrow and Dean popped a Zyrtec, but soon Vader was sitting on the table, with a saucer of milk and a plate of canned tuna in front of him while the humans ate pie.  After that, Dean had to release Charlie to Miss Harvelle and her personal shoppers from Barney’s and Niemen Marcus. That left him plenty of time to do his job of answering Mr. Milton’s correspondence and arranging his schedule, but he couldn’t help but wonder what would become of Charlie after the end of the week.


	2. Chapter 2

A veterinarian came to look over Vader to make sure he didn’t have any diseases, and to give him his shots. While she had the cat, Miss Harvelle took charge of Charlie.

 

Miss Harvelle told Charlie to call her Jo, and then she and a bunch of other women turned Charlie into their own personal doll. They washed her, trimmed her hair, made her try on more clothes than she’d seen in her lifetime, measured her, and then they left her some clothes, shoes, a backpack, a purse, a few jackets, and then left without actually asking her opinion about anything. Not that Charlie really cared about the clothes—aside from her school uniform, which was donated by the state, all of her clothes were old and hand-me-down, and she didn’t actually own any of them—but it still would have been nice to have been asked.

 

She was sitting alone in a big room that had wood panels on the wall, but not the kind that looked fake and stupid like they had at the orphanage, and a bed that could have easily slept her, Claire, and Krissy all at the same time without them touching each other. There was a bathroom in the room with a tub the size of a swimming pool, and now the closet had a bunch of clothes for Charlie sitting inside of it.

 

Someone knocked on the door, and it took Charlie a minute to figure out that she was supposed to invite them inside. At the orphanage, there was not really any such thing as privacy. There could be any number of girls hanging around in the room with her, or taking a shower with her, or grabbing a sweater that she’d just taken off.

 

“Um…come in?”

 

Dean poked his head through the door and gave Charlie a reassuring smile. “Hey, kiddo. The vultures are all gone, and look who’s back.” He entered the room completely and showed Charlie both a cat carrier with Vader inside, and a cat bed that he placed on the end of Charlie’s bed. “I sent one of the house staff off for his food, a cat box, and some toys, so they should be here soon.”

 

Charlie looked up at Dean, and then launched herself into his arms.

 

“Hey, what’s the matter?”

 

Charlie shrugged. “I don’t know. I just…I’ve never…I’ve never felt as invisible as I did when all those people were here. They never said anything to me.” Charlie suddenly realized she was crying. “Oh, now look at me! I’m such a little bitch.”

 

“Hey,” Dean warned. “Hey, firstly, that’s not the right word. Sam would give you a ten minute lecture about internalized misogyny if he heard you say that. And all those people were talking about you and around you. That sucks, buttercup. You have a right to be upset.” Charlie giggled and accepted a Kleenex from Dean. He put his hand on her cheek and wiped off her tears. “Okay, Mr. Milton should be back soon. Let’s go downstairs and show Benny how pretty you look.”

 

Benny kissed Charlie’s hands and told her she looked beautiful, then he looked Vader over and said he certainly looked healthier for the vet visit. He was just holding Charlie up so she could look at the pots on the stove when they heard the front door open. Charlie didn’t have a chance to feel frightened. Dean walked ahead of her and Benny, and met Mr. Milton in the foyer.

 

Mr. Milton was tall, but not as tall as Dean, and he had dark hair and very bright blue eyes, and he seemed very grumpy. With him was Sam, Dean’s brother, who was probably the tallest person Charlie had ever seen.

 

“The merger with Morningstar Consolidated was put on hold,” Mr. Milton said, his voice dark and deep. “We are to set up a meeting with the CFO in the morning, try to make it for after ten o’clock, whatever you do. I feel very tired, so try schedule me for a flu shot sometime this week.”

 

Dean had a tablet in his hand, and he was making notes as Mr. Milton talked.

 

“Sir, I wanted to tell you about—“

 

“Sam, have the suspension in the Rolls checked, the ride seemed incredibly bumpy for me, and look into selling my old apartment in the Meat Packing District, I doubt I’ll use it again. Benny, I hope you’ve cooked a good dinner tonight, I had to skip lunch because of the president of Morningstar. Idiot called Zachariah. Dean, when we acquire the company, I want him fired first thing.”

 

“Of course, sir,” Dean said.

 

“We’re having roast lamb for dinner with new potatoes and baby peas,” Benny said. “I made the salad dressing you like, too.”

 

“That sounds fine,” Mr. Milton said. He was about to move further in when he saw Charlie. “Who is this?”

 

“Sir, this is who I was trying to tell you about,” Dean said. “This is Charlie, the orphan you sent me after this morning. Remember?”

 

Mr. Milton frowned. “I sent you after an orphan, Dean, not a little girl.”

 

“Charlie is an orphan, sir,” Dean said, just as Mr. Milton noticed Vader.

 

“Why is there a cat in the house? Dean is allergic to cats!”

 

“It’s all right, sir, I’ve taken pills,” Dean said, his voice calm. Charlie was amazed, she was already hiding behind Benny.

 

“I don’t see how it matters, the child can’t stay. Go and get a boy, not…not her.”

 

Dean finally lost his calm demeanor. “Sir, if you’ll just listen to…”

 

“It’s okay, Dean,” Charlie said. She had known from the beginning that this wouldn’t last. “Really, it’s okay. I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun. The car ride you took me on! I think I saw more of the city in one day than I’ve seen in my entire life. And then I got to see this beautiful house, so pretty! Right in the middle of the city. And Vader got to see a vet. Well…I won’t be able to keep him at the orphanage, but it’s good to know he is healthy at least.”

 

Mr. Milton sighed and took off his long overcoat. “When will dinner be ready, Benny?”

 

“’Bout an hour, sir.”

 

He nodded. “I’ll be in my study. Dean! We have a few letters to write.”

 

Dean looked down at Charlie, who looked up at him in confusion. “But I need to take Charlie…”

 

“She can stay! But only for the week!”

 

Mr. Milton had already disappeared down the hall, and Dean quickly followed behind him, leaving Charlie and Sam alone together.

 

“Hi, Charlie. I’m Sam, Dean’s brother.”

 

Charlie looked up at him up close for the first time. He was taller up close than she had even thought he would be. “Jumpin’ jellyfish!”

 

Sam laughed. “Hey, short stuff. How about you and I watch some TV before dinner.”

 

}o{

 

Charlie tossed and turned in her huge bed. The mattress was smooth, with no lumps or bumps for her to wedge herself against. The pillows were higher than she was used to, and it felt like her head was craning far above the mattress. Vader was curled up happily against her chest, purring and snoring, but it wasn’t nearly noisy enough. She was used to ten other bodies in the room with her, and a room half the size. She could usually hear their bellies growling, but thanks to Benny’s fabulous dinner, she didn’t even have that noise in the background.

 

“This is ridiculous,” she said to Vader, sitting up and pushing off the heavy blankets. Dean had shown her over the house, so she knew where his room was. She figured she’d go and see if she could sleep on his little sofa, but she passed Mr. Milton’s study on her way there, and found both Dean and Sam inside with him.

 

“Why is the child awake?” Mr. Milton asked from behind his desk. He had a stylus in his hand and was holding his head in such a way as to indicate a headache. His computer was on, and there were papers all over his desk. He didn’t look up at Charlie, simply continued to read things and move them around methodically.

 

“I couldn’t sleep,” Charlie admitted. “It’s too quiet.”

 

“Seems noisy to me,” Mr. Milton mused.

 

Dean sighed and stood up, pulling Charlie along with him to the round worktable where he and Sam had been looking over papers.

 

“What is all this?” Charlie asked, picking up a packet that had been braced in a file.

 

“That is a purchase order for computer equipment for our R&D team,” Dean said. “They seem to be bleeding money, so I brought up some of their purchases, to see what’s going on.”

 

Charlie opened up the file and started to look through it. She could read well, but the language in the contract was a little beyond her mere ten years. When she got to the price list, however, she stopped, because that made sense.

 

“Um, Dean?”

 

Dean hummed in that bored way that adults did sometimes, when they were busy and didn’t really want to be disturbed.

 

“Dean, when you gave me that ipad earlier, I looked at how much it cost, just in case I dropped it, and even if your people were to buy the most expensive one on the market, the ones they are buying are twice the price of the ones I saw online.”

 

Dean looked up and frowned, and Mr. Milton set aside his tablet.

 

“We do purchase from a company that does the setup for us,” Dean murmured, taking the purchase order, “but it should only be a twenty percent markup.”

 

Mr. Milton and Sam both dropped everything, and soon the entire purchase order was laid out page by page over the table, and they were each taking sections and analyzing them. Charlie moved to desk chair that Mr. Milton had vacated, finding it warm from his body heat, and very comfortable. Vader once again curled up against her, and soon they were both asleep to the sounds of the three men murmuring quietly.

 

}o{

 

Dean couldn’t believe that a child figured out what had happened before the adults had. Sam was berating himself for not checking the contracts first, and Mr. Milton had that pinched look on his face, like he wanted to fire someone, but he wasn’t sure exactly where to start.

 

“How much?” Mr. Milton asked at last.

 

“Based on just these PO’s, I’m guessing in the low hundred thousands,” Dean answered.

 

Mr. Milton looked over to where Charlie was curled up in his desk chair, like a little angel. “Put her to bed,” he said. “There’s nothing more we can do tonight, and we have a meeting in the morning. Sam, while Dean and I meet with Morningstar, I want you and your lawyers to go over these contracts. I want at least one person arrested before lunch.”

 

Sam nodded. “Yes, sir.”

 

Charlie didn’t wake when Dean lifted her up, but Vader had a few things to say about losing his warm lap. He followed behind Dean and jumped into his little bed when Dean laid Charlie in hers.

 

Dean saw Mr. Milton in the hallway when he left Charlie’s room. He looked very tired. His tie was loose around his neck, and his jacket was over his arm. The sight of him so casual, only in his waistcoat, his biceps tight under his white shirt, did funny things to Dean’s insides.

 

“Good night, Dean.”

 

“Good night, sir,” Dean answered, trying to not think of anything involving his boss in a bed.

 

}o{

 

The next day, they left Charlie in Benny’s hands for the morning. According to Benny, they would be baking something good for dinner that night, and Dean was really excited to see what they would come up with.

 

“You can drive me in your car, Dean,” Mr. Milton said, once they reached the basement parking garage. “I know you don’t like my cars.”

 

Dean huffed, but opened the back door of the Impala for him. “I know you enjoy my classic car better than your shiny new Tesla,” he teased.

 

Mr. Milton smiled, a rare occurrence. “I run an environmental R&D corporation, Dean. Your fossil fuel guzzler is an indulgence I should probably not allow you, but I understand it has sentimental value. Besides,” he sighed, “it is a lovely car.”

 

Dean smiled to himself and ignored the feeling in his tummy that tugged at him whenever Mr. Milton complimented him.

 

The meeting with the heads of Morningstar went slightly better than the meeting the day before, according to Mr. Milton. It was clear that he didn’t like this Zachariah Adler person, though. Whenever they spoke, Mr. Milton’s face went hard, and he became achingly polite. Zachariah didn’t know Mr. Milton’s moods, however, and seemed to think that they were getting along well.

 

“I’m worried about my staff, Mr. Milton,” Zachariah said. “They’re like family to me. My largest concern with this merger is their livelihood, their ability to provide for their families.”

 

Mr. Milton cleared his throat and set down the file he was holding. “I can guarantee, Mr. Adler, that any employee cuts we make will be on both sides of the equation.”

 

“That sounds ominous,” Zachariah told the room. The others all chuckled uncomfortably.

 

Mr. Milton shrugged. “I’m a business man, Mr. Adler. My eye is on the bottom line, but also on the environment. My company attempts to make life better for the world, and humanity is a part of the world. I can promise that I will not downsize anyone who is productive. If they are not productive, then can I truly say that they are attempting to improve their environment?”

 

On the way home, Dean asked Mr. Milton, “Do we really need to acquire Morningstar?”

 

“Their scientists have developed a solar panel that is as light as aluminum, but as sturdy as steel. Even if I could seduce their engineers, I would not be able to acquire the technology without paying a hefty price. It’s actually cheaper for me to take over the company, as long as the company holds the patent on the solar panel.” 

 

“Seems weird, them wanting to sell with that sort of technology available to them,” Dean mused aloud. “Seems they’re primed to make a lot of money.”

 

Castiel took on a triumphant look. “They can’t make it work. They keep dangling it like a carrot, but they can’t make it work. I can, Dean. I’ve looked at the design, and I know where the flaws are. I can fix them.”

 

}o{

 

Charlie had never been allowed in the kitchen of the orphanage, so hanging out with Benny and helping him get dinner together was a completely new experience for her. More than that, aside from government-issued school meals, she rarely had anything hot to eat. Miss Masters mostly served them peanut butter sandwiches on old, stale bread, and in the summer and on school holidays, the kids would eat sandwiches three meals a day.

 

Benny apparently believed in hot meals, and plenty of them. She had toast, eggs, and bacon for breakfast, a bowl of fruit with yogurt sauce for a snack, leftovers for lunch (heated up in the oven, because Benny didn’t like microwaves), and another piece of pecan pie for an afternoon snack. Charlie was pretty sure she’d gained five pounds in just the last day. To top that off, making dinner meant lots of tasting to get the spices just right. She was worried she’d be too full when dinner actually came around.

 

She was saved from gorging herself on cake batter, however, when a young man came to the apartment and gave Charlie a huge smile.

 

“Hey, who are you?” he asked, nodding to Benny.

 

“Kevin, this is Charlie. She’s staying for the week with Mr. Milton.”

 

Kevin turned to Charlie, smile still in place. “It’s nice to meet you, Charlie,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m Kevin Tran, and I teach Mr. Milton how to play the harp.”

 

“The harp!” Charlie exclaimed. “Jumpin’ jellyfish!”

 

Kevin laughed. “Well, either I’m early, or Mr. Milton is late. How would you like to learn something until Mr. Milton comes home?”

 

Charlie looked at Benny, who nodded. “Go on, _cheri_. I’ll finish dinner myself.”

 

Charlie jumped down from the stool she’d been using to make her tall enough to reach the counter, and followed Keven to the large living room where a harp and a piano stood near each other by the window. Kevin had a large duffle on his shoulder, and he set it down on the piano bench, then pulled out a small case.

 

“Violin,” he said. “My preferred instrument is the cello, but it’s not as portable. Have you ever played an instrument before?”

 

Charlie thought back to the previous year when all of the children were given recorders to play, and Miss Masters had burned them all when the semester was over. “Um…sort of?”

 

“Recorder?”

 

Charlie nodded.

 

“Okay, this will be different, obviously. Let me show you the strings first.”

 

He gave each of the strings names, and then showed her how placing her fingers in different places on the neck of the violin made the strings play higher. Charlie played around with it, and then laughed. “I like this, Kevin. Watch!” she plucked out, with a few mistakes, the music that always played in Star Wars when the Empire showed up on the scene. “Star Wars!”

 

Kevin stared at her. “Wow! You’ve never played?”

 

Charlie shook her head. “We don’t really get instruments at the orphanage.”

 

“Yeah, probably not,” Kevin agreed with a grimace. “Okay, let me show you how to play this thing.”

 

Over the course of two hours, Charlie learned how to pluck it, tune it, pull the bow over the strings, what the rosin was for, and how to hold everything. Finally, after what felt like ages of only practical learning, Kevin stood back and let Charlie draw the bow and make her first chord.

 

“Wow,” she said when the sound reverberated perfectly through the room.

 

“You’re a natural,” Kevin said. He looked a little wistful, too, and was about to say something else when they heard the unmistakable sound of Castiel and Dean returning.

 

Charlie went running into the foyer, Vader following close behind, and bounced in front of Dean.

 

“Hey, kiddo!” he said, his voice bright even though he looked tired. “What have you been up to today?”

 

“Benny and I made cupcakes!” she said. “And Kevin showed me how to play the song from Star Wars on the violin.”

 

“The violin,” Mr. Milton said, raising an eyebrow at Kevin.

 

Kevin shrugged. “I’ve never seen anything like it. She’s got it in her blood.”

 

Sam walked in shortly after that and ruffled Charlie’s hair. “So, what are we eating for dinner?” he asked her.

 

“Duck!” Charlie announced happily. “I didn’t know you could eat them!”

 

Sam chuckled and pulled her against his side as he went down the hall to where Mr. Milton’s office was. Mr. Milton and Dean followed behind them, and Kevin was asking if he should stay.

 

“If you wouldn’t mind staying to dinner, we could have my session afterwards. I will, of course, compensate you for your time.”

 

“I’m excited to try Charlie’s cooking,” Kevin said. “I don’t mind staying.”

 

It turned out to be a nice night, and Charlie even made Mr. Milton laugh once. She counted it as a victory.

 

}o{

 

Meg Masters had never planned on running an orphanage. Honestly, it wasn’t something you set out to do. A series of unfortunate events and bad decisions led her here, and she regretted every moment of it. The only bright spot was how easy it was to skim off the top.

 

Meg and her sister had grown up in a slum, but because of zoning had gone to school with rich kids. They’d taken one look around, and decided that they wanted that sort of life for themselves. Meg had been really good at psychological warfare, exploiting the weaknesses of her fellow students for their pin money, while Ruby, her sister, had turned to occult books and become a passable charlatan witch. While Meg orchestrated elaborate ruses in order to either blackmail or trick her fellow students into paying her for protection, Ruby read palms, tarot cards, and the stars, then created tiny pouches of herbs and bird bones and other things, convincing students that any good thing that happened to them, happened because of her magic.

 

The best part was that once, May Merriweather had snitched on Ruby to a teacher, and Ruby had created a voodoo doll that looked just like her, then broke its leg. Meg had made sure that May also broke her leg at PE by paying two of her friends from the slums to grease a spot on the basketball court floor, and then herd May into it so she would fall down. It was one of the few moments in school when the poor kids had learned that they had a lot to gain when they worked together, and the rich kids figured out that they were outnumbered and overwhelmed by them.

 

No one ever snitched again, and Meg and Ruby made enough money to buy anything they needed or wanted.

 

When they graduated, they went down different paths. Ruby capitalized on her witchy ways, opening a palm reading shop in Chinatown where she plied her wares on tourists and transplants, but never seemed to have enough money, whereas Meg somehow found herself here. Surrounded by children 24/7. While Ruby flitted from boyfriend to boyfriend, Meg hardly ever saw a man, aside from the odd police officer, some stoner looking to be hooked up, or the laundry man.

 

She really needed to get laid in a bad way. Not that it was going to happen any time soon. She was desperate enough that even the current felon that Ruby had decided to bring by looked good to her.

 

“What do you want, Rooster?” Meg asked, blocking the doorway to the orphanage.

 

“No one calls me that anymore,” Ruby frowned.

 

Like Meg cared. “What do you want, Ruby?”

 

Ruby shrugged and pushed her way inside. “Lou and I are looking for a party. I thought you might have something to help us out.”

 

Meg made an irritated noise in her throat and dragged Ruby into her private room. She might hate the girls, but even she had some standards for what they were privy to. “That’s for paying customers, sis.”

 

“Lou” raised a blond eyebrow and pulled a hundred from his chest pocket. “This enough, dear?”

 

Meg swiped the bill from his hand and glared at him, then held the bill to the light. It was either the best counterfeit she’d ever seen, or it was the real thing.

 

“Fine,” she growled, producing a bag of weed from her stash and practically throwing it at her sister. “Now scram.” 

 

Lou smirked and Ruby leaned against Meg’s bed. It seemed they wanted to hang out.

 

“You can’t party here,” Meg insisted. “The law turns a blind eye to only so much, Roo. You two need to go.” She crossed her arms over her chest and set Ruby with her steeliest glare.

 

Ruby just smiled in return and remained where she was. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Lou and I don’t need to get our party on just yet. We can have a talk.”

 

“I have nothing to talk about,” Meg said through clenched teeth.

 

“Maybe I do,” Ruby countered.

 

“What, you pregnant?” Meg scoffed. “I’ve got enough kids here, Roo. Don’t gotta get knocked up, you know.”

 

Lou laughed, and it rankled in Meg’s head. She didn’t like this guy. “There are a lot of kids in here,” he said, pausing to listen to the sound of someone chasing someone else down the hall. “Anyone ever get adopted?”

 

Meg shrugged. “Sometimes. Mostly they get fostered, but then wind up back here because they’re too stupid to follow the rules of the foster house.”

 

“Anyone go recently?” Lou pressed.

 

“What’s it to you?” Meg nearly shouted. “What’s with this guy, Roo? Who cares? No one cares about these little delinquents, and probably no one ever will. It’s time for both of you to go.”

 

Ruby looked like she was going to protest, but Lou grabbed her by the elbow and steered her outside.

 

“Didn’t mean to upset you,” he threw over his shoulder on his way out.

 

Meg just slammed the door and dusted off her hands, as if ridding herself of their negative energy. “I need a drink,” she muttered to herself.


	3. We've got Charlie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You probably know by now that I know nothing about acquisitions and mergers, and I got a C in economics, and that was only with my professor's help, so...yeah. It probably seems like I'm being really vague on that front, but it's because I literally have no clue how that stuff works. But it is going to be important to the story in a way. Anyway, enjoy! I really do enjoy writing this.

Castiel sat behind his desk at his computer, attempting to listen to Sam Winchester explain the recent discoveries as to misappropriation of funds in the company he had worked hard to build.

 

Castiel’s father had made sure each of his children had a trust fund, but he had never stipulated what they should do with it. Gabriel had used his to go to the CIA, and the Le Cordon Bleu in France. He had then traveled the world, honing his skill, and then returned to New York to open a restaurant that was wildly unsuccessful. Undeterred, Gabriel continued on from failure to failure, until he finally found the right mixture of fusion cuisine, and now he was the owner of one of the most successful restaurants in the city. It currently had a two-week waiting list for anyone not family.

 

Anna became an artist and sometimes traveled with Gabriel in Europe. She wasn’t hugely successful yet, but she did fine and invested well. Her work was generally religious in nature, and therefore not for everyone. Still, there was a beauty to it, especially once she started working with stained glass. Her latest creations were being featured in an indie art shop in Brooklyn.

 

Michael went into politics. He did everything you’d expect a politician to do: Yale, Harvard, local government, the works. Now he was running for senate, and apparently doing a good job of it. The papers put him in the lead according to polls, and public opinion was favorable. Castiel and his siblings were apparently looked upon in a positive light, and everything in Michael’s campaign was perfect, until one of their cousins got in trouble and it was discovered by some newspaper editor that they were related.

 

The cousin wasn’t someone that they even knew. They hadn’t summered together or gone on yacht parties, raised hell in the Hamptons. This cousin, though, caused a major ripple in Michael’s road to his dream, and he’d always been supportive of Castiel starting his own business and developing green technology. Sure, Michael used it as part of his campaign, but he also believed in it, believed in cleaner resources and a better tomorrow. Michael had promised that if Castiel did this little promotional stunt—“adopting” an orphan for a week—that he’d make sure Castiel’s business was a frontrunner for government R&D grants.

 

Charlie was currently running around the room with Dean, both of them sailing model airplanes through the air and making accompanying noises that were a far cry from actual airplane engine sounds.

 

“I…I can’t hear myself think!” Castiel growled, and the noise in the room immediately stopped. Dean lifted Charlie down from the chair she was standing on, and they both stared at him with wide eyes. “Isn’t it…can’t you take her somewhere? Outside?”

 

“There’s a comic book convention in town,” Dean said hopefully. “I bet she’d love to go there.”

 

Charlie gasped. “Claire’s dad took her to one of those! She said she saw three Spidermans and eight Batmans and a whole _ton_ of Princess Leias!”

 

“That sounds great!” Dean said.

 

“Yes!” Castiel agreed. “Excellent! You can take her there and be back for dinner.”

 

Castiel wasn’t quite sure why Dean suddenly looked so sad, but he’d do just about anything to keep that look from ever entering his face again.

 

“Oh, I thought you would want to…”

 

Castiel frowned. Why would Dean think he’d want to take Charlie anywhere? He had a merger to deal with, and workers siphoning money off of him.

 

“Sam can handle all the legal stuff for you,” Dean said. “He’s already doing a great job, and a few hours at a convention…”

 

“I can’t do it,” Castiel said. There was too much to do…sure, he was mostly listening to what Sam and the lawyers were doing but he felt that he needed to be here where he could be useful. Sure, he’d had help building his business, but he’d built it from the ground up! From his first solar panel to his last wind turbine…he couldn’t just leave it, could he?

 

“It’s okay,” Charlie said. “I don’t have to go. I guess I can read a book quietly in my room. Claire’s a liar, anyway.”

 

Castiel sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. “Fine. Fine, I’ll take her. Get us tickets and coordinate the security.” He looked at Sam and said, “Keep up the work and the findings. Your resources are unlimited. Just send me updates throughout the day.”

 

Sam nodded. “Of course, sir.”

 

Within the half-hour, Castiel was sitting in the back of Dean’s Impala with Charlie, who was staring out the window like a tourist.

 

“You’ve never been around the city?” Castiel asked her, feeling that he should at least say something to her.

 

“We went on a field trip to the museum at school once,” Charlie said, face still pressed against the window.

 

Castiel stayed quiet after that. He observed Charlie through different eyes, seeing how much pleasure she derived from small things that he had always taken for granted. Sure, he never really knew his father, instead being raised by nannies and staff, but his dad had thrown money at everything regarding his children, and Castiel had never really known want. All Charlie seemed to know was her own little orphanage, and any other thing was fascinating and new.

 

“There’s lights everywhere!” she would say now and then when they passed a lit-up billboard in the middle of the day. Dean made sure to pass through Times Square, even though it took them about a half an hour longer, just to watch Charlie light up at all the sights and sounds.

 

“Is that man with the guitar _naked_?” Charlie asked, turning in her seat to stare harder.

 

“Charlie, seatbelt!” Dean barked, and Castiel helped her click it into place.

 

“Sorry,” she said, an impish expression of sheepishness firmly in place on her face. Castiel smirked back.

 

“Uh-huh,” he hummed.

 

At the convention center, Dean showed all of their passes at a back door away from the press (though there were a few photographers that started trying to jump at them when they realized who Castiel was), and soon they were being led inside by convention staff. Two large bodyguards from a company that Castiel often rented from followed closely behind them.

 

Charlie was completely charmed by everything she saw, and everything she saw was completely charmed by her. Dean had his camera out, and was taking pictures of everything, having her pose with about five Deadpools, a gaggle of slave Leia’s (which Charlie blushed furiously the entire time, especially when they people [not all of them were women] petted her curls and told her how pretty she was), Ana and Elsa, several people dressed as characters from a TV show called “Supernatural” that apparently played on a nonstop loop on one of the channels the orphanage managed to get in via analog antenna, and, of course, Klingons.

 

“Qapla!” Charlie shouted to them.

 

“Ah, so the tiny hyoo-man thinks she speaks Klingon!” one of the largest ones said, his voice and posture mocking.

 

“Luq 'oH pejatlh!” Charlie answered, crossing her arms and turning up her chin. She was a small child anyway, but next to the Klingons, who were in thick-soled boots and covered in really strange looking armor, she was positively tiny.

 

The Klingon stared at her, and then laughed, throwing back his head. His friends did the same, and soon Dean had another picture of Charlie and Cosplayers.

 

While Charlie and Dean talked to the Klingons, Castiel leaned against a wall and observed the convention. He’d never been to something like this, though when he’d started building his business, he’d attended several green tech conventions. There had been very few Cosplayers at those (though he’d seen a few Klingons and Spocks, which he’d later learned had been a good thing), and they’d been a lot less entertaining. Now he had a communications expert who went to conventions for him. He thought maybe he should change that.

 

As he was standing there, he saw a father and a little girl. She was a blonde in a Union Jack t-shirt, and the man had on a leather jacket with a big blue box embroidered on the back. The little girl appeared to be crying.

 

“But Daddy! I want one!” she said with a stomp of her foot.

 

“I said no!” the father answered. “Now come on, we need to find Mommy.”

 

The little girl was lifted up, still crying and upset, and carried off. A little bit away from her, a similar scene was playing out by  a vendor who had some robots on his table. It seemed this scene was going on by just about every booth, and children who weren’t throwing temper tantrums were still begging their parents for things. If it wasn’t collectibles, then it was costumes.

 

Charlie was the only one who seemed to have not asked for anything. She was just happy to be there, to see the Cosplayers and stand inside the TARDIS and look around at everything and everyone, looking surprised whenever Dean or Castiel handed her something, like an ice cream cone, or a customized Barbie in a Leia slavegirl costume, or a Marvel T-shirt from a fanartist with Black Widow on it. Castiel didn’t know what to do with this. Charlie wasn’t something he could throw money at. She didn’t need things. She needed a family. He knew the feeling.

  
When Michael had asked him to take Charlie in for a week, it hadn’t been a favor from one brother to another. It had been a business arrangement. Cold. Calculated. There was no familial imperative involved at all, just good business.

 

Castiel didn’t know what to do with the feelings swirling around inside of him, so he turned his attention back to the convention.

 

They walked until they couldn’t walk any more, and then Dean piggybacked Charlie around until he was finally too tired to continue. On the way out, Castiel took Charlie from Dean, and carried her to the car. She was already sound asleep, and used Castiel as her pillow in the car on the way home. Castiel didn’t mind, or even notice at first as he was busy on his tablet checking his messages and the internet. Soon, though, he noticed the weight and warmth of her head on his knee, and then he had to restrict his breathing, because he couldn’t wake her up.

 

When Dean pulled into his parking space, Castiel gathered Charlie into his arms and carried her all the way to his penthouse, even when Dean sleepily asked if he should take her. They both put her to bed, taking off her shoes and jacket and tucking her in while Vader jumped on the bed and situated himself at her feet, kneading the bedspread with a fury.

 

Castiel didn’t ignore the way his arms felt empty without her in them, the way both he and Dean looked at her sleeping form before closing her door, the way Dean didn’t meet Castiel’s eyes when they bid each other goodnight.

 

The next morning when Dean intruded upon Castiel’s solitary morning breakfast on the roof, Castiel just nodded when Dean said, “I’m not sending her back to the orphanage. She’s staying.”

 

“Yes, of course.”

 

“I’ll have Sam file the necessary paperwork.”

 

“Yes, yes.”

 

Dean narrowed his eyes, and Castiel noticed how green and clear they looked in the early morning, above all the smog and congestion of the city.

 

“I appreciate this, Mr. Novak.” He smiled.

 

“Your front teeth overlap.”

 

Dean frowned and ran his tongue over them. Castiel watched the movement.

 

“I’ll have them fixed.”

 

“I like them overlapping.”

 

Dean smiled again. “Then I’ll keep them.”

 

Castiel took Dean’s hand and was about to bring it to his mouth. He wanted to say so much about how Dean opened his eyes, how he loved Dean, had always loved Dean, relied on him and trusted him completely, but before he could, Sam interrupted them with the agenda for the morning, and more information from the day before about Morningstar Enterprises.

 

“Oh!” Dean laughed, pulling away. “Yes, I’ll…I’ll take care of those things, sir.”

 

Sam frowned. “What’s going on?”

 

Dean smiled again. “We’ve got Charlie!”

 

Sam laughed and hugged Dean, and Castiel watched like a starving man at a banquet. “Yes! I’ll get the paperwork together by the end of the week! I think Mr. Michael knows a judge who can push things through…”

 

“I can’t wait to tell Charlie,” Dean said, turning to Castiel. “You should be the one to tell her, sir. Coming from you…”

 

Castiel blushed. He was sure that Dean was Charlie’s favorite, but he appreciated that Dean was going to give this to him. “It was your idea, Dean.”

 

Dean laughed and patted Castiel on the shoulder. “I know you wanted it to happen too, Mr. Milton.”

 

Castiel blushed. “I want to give Charlie a gift, Dean. The locket she wears around her neck…it’s broken. I want to give her a new one.”

 

Dean nodded. “Great idea! I’ll stop by Tiffany’s when I file the paperwork at the courthouse.”

 

“Today’s going to be a busy day,” Sam said. “I’ll leave these papers with you, sir, and then I’ll have Benny and Kevin keep Charlie occupied today while we work. We can’t just adopt her overnight, and we’ll probably have to foster her for a while first. I have a friend from college who’s in family law, so she’ll be able to help me out with all that.”

 

Castiel nodded and turned to the paperwork that Sam had brought him. He had so much going on at once, but for the first time in a long time, he felt really good about where his life was going, and what was happening in it. One thing was sure, though. It was just like both Dean and Sam had said: it wasn’t just Castiel who had Charlie. All of them did.

 

“We’ve got Charlie,” he repeated to himself, amused and elated and so happy.


	4. Why shouldn't you be mine?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ought to dedicate this chapter to WinJennster, who hosted a 1K/1Hr last night. I ended up writing almost 2K words during it! Anyway, please enjoy, and thank you to the wonderful folks who have taken the time to comment. I'm going to try and reply to them today.

Dean ended up taking Charlie to the park and enrolling her in a summer camp there where she would learn to “commune with nature even in the middle of the city.” The camp director was very explicit about the activities Charlie would be engaging in, and how organic, fair trade, and eco-friendly everything would be. Apparently Charlie would be enjoying painting, bird watching, planting vegetation, and contributing to the communal compost after lunch and snack.

 

Dean just shrugged because he figured anything that kept her occupied was good.

 

Sam had already gotten the paperwork written up for officially fostering Charlie, but there would be social workers, court dates, and any number of forms to fill out before Castiel could actually adopt her. Sam’s contact in the family law practice had warned him that it could take years to make Charlie more than a mere ward for Castiel.

 

Dean didn’t really care, and Castiel didn’t seem to mind too much either. He seemed happier with the prospects of adopting Charlie than he had about the Morningstar merger.

 

Dean stopped at Tiffany’s and found a nice locket that he had engraved, and then he found a photo of Castiel and Charlie from the Comicon on his phone, and had it printed out to fit inside. It was a good photo, and Dean had known when he took it that Castiel was going to keep Charlie.

 

If he hadn’t, Dean was pretty sure that he was going to quit his job, or maybe take Charlie in on his own. Or both. He still wasn’t sure, he just knew he couldn’t send her back to that Masters woman.

 

Back at the penthouse, he found Castiel and Sam poring over paperwork that they’d finally gotten from Morningstar regarding their offers and stipulations. Both men seemed happy to put it all aside for a few minutes.

 

“We have to have Miss Masters sign off on the paperwork for Castiel’s temporary custody until the family court grants him full custody,” Sam said, his voice very tired. He rubbed his hands over his face and ran his fingers through his hair, then leaned back in his chair and groaned.

 

“That’s fine,” Castiel said. “We need a break anyway, Sam. I’ll go, Dean, and have Miss Masters sign, and then I can swing by the park and pick up Charlie.”

 

“I’ll drive you,” Dean offered.

 

“I’ll drive him,” Sam said. “I have to file the paperwork after she signs, if we can get her to do it before the courthouse closes. My friend from college is pulling some strings to get this done today, time permitting.”

 

Castiel stood and pulled on his jacket. “We should go and do that, then, Sam. I think…Dean, you’d better pick up Charlie after all. It sounds as though Sam and I have the rest of the afternoon worked out.”

 

Dean pulled the small blue box from his pocket and set it down on Castiel’s desk. “I’ll let you give this to her.”

 

Castiel opened the box and looked at the locket, smiling quietly to himself when he saw the picture inside. “It’s lovely, Dean. Thank you.”

 

}o{

 

The Third Street Orphanage was a bleak place. It wasn’t just that all of the children within were parentless. The place was actually terrible looking. As Castiel ascended the steps and rang the bell, he affirmed to himself the decision to adopt Charlie. He could not leave her in this hell house. No child deserved this.

 

He made a mental note to be sure and have Michael look into reform for children like Charlie. It was shameful how, in a country of plenty, there were those living in want.

 

“You from H&R Block?” the woman who answered the door asked, looking Castiel up and down.

 

“I am Castiel Milton,” he said, noting how her eyes got very wide. “Are you Megan Masters?”

 

“Am I ever!” she said, opening the door all the way and making a grand sweep with her hand. “Come on inside, sir. Can I offer you a drink?”

 

“No, thank you. I’ve come about Charlie.”

 

“Of course you have,” Miss Masters tossed over her shoulder as she led him down a hall. “No doubt you want to replace her. Lucky for you, I’ve got a pretty large supply of girls.”

 

Castiel was appalled. “I do not wish to replace her. I wish to adopt her.”

 

Miss Masters paused with her hand on a doorknob. “Adopt her?” She looked positively astounded.

 

“Yes.” Castiel was unsure as to which part he’d made unclear.

 

“You want to _keep_ her? Like, forever?”

 

“I just need you to sign this paperwork, if it’s not too inconvenient.” He had barely pulled the forms from his pocket when she snatched them out of his hand and pushed into the room they’d been standing in front of.

 

“It’s not inconvenient at all. You’re welcome to her. I just…” she waved her hand as she stepped up to her desk. “Charlie? Really?”

 

Castiel was feeling very impatient at her attitude. “Yes, Miss Masters. I wish to adopt and keep Charlie. How many more times must I repeat myself?”

 

“It’s just that…you’re so very young,” Miss Masters said. “And handsome.”

 

“I fail to see what that—“

 

“You want some young kid when you could get married and have a baby of your own?” She stood up and tapped her pen to her lips.

 

“That’s really not some—“

 

Miss Masters swayed over to Castiel where he was standing at the doorway, and ran her hand over his arm. “Don’t sell yourself short, Mr. Milton. You’re quite a catch.”

 

Castiel brushed her hand off his arm. “Please sign the papers, Miss Masters.”

 

“You don’t have to be so formal, just call me Meg.”

 

“No. The papers are on your desk.”

 

Miss Masters winked. “Of course.” She turned away and held the pen as though she were going to sign, but then she dropped it. “Oh! Ooops!”

 

Castiel frowned as she turned her back to him and bent over to pick up the pen.

 

“Miss Masters, I must file these papers tonight. I insist that you sign.”

 

She turned her head and frowned back at him. Was it necessary for her to remain bent over like that still?

 

“Surely you’ve retrieved your pen by now. If not, I have two in my pocket.”

 

She straightened up and turned back to him. “That might be best. This one could be out of ink.” She licked the tip of the pen.

 

“That’s a porous point pen, Miss Masters. If it’s out of ink, licking it will not help. If it’s not, then you just put a blue stripe on your tongue.”

 

Miss Masters swayed back to him, her hips even more exaggerated this time, and leaned against his chest, her hand  fisting in his tie. “What do you think? Is it blue?” she stuck her tongue out at him.

 

Castiel sighed. “No. The pen is out of ink. Here, use mine.” He pulled her hand off his tie and slapped a ballpoint into it. “Now, if you would be so good, sign. the goddamned papers. If you please?”

 

Defeated, Miss Masters signed her signature and stuffed Castiel’s pen down her blouse. “Here. Take her. But this means you can’t bring her back.”

 

Castiel took the papers. “Trust me, madam, I would never knowingly place a child in your custody.”

 

He ducked out the door just in time to hear something break against it. Deciding retreat was the best way to go, Castiel practically ran to the car where Sam was waiting.

 

“We have an hour, is that enough time?” Castiel asked.

 

“I think so, sir. Let’s go!”

 

}o{

 

Charlie had the best time at the park, although some of the kids were a little strange.

 

“They all have nannies,” she told Dean and Benny as they shelled edamame in the kitchen. “And almost all of them have stock in Mr. Milton’s company. They were all really proud of that. They asked what my allowance was.”

 

“What did you tell them?” Benny asked.

 

“I said that I didn’t have one, but that Dean buys me everything I want. They asked if he was my manny.”

 

Benny laughed and Dean threw an edamame pod at him.

 

A bell chimed, and Benny looked up from his task. “That would be Mr.Castiel and Sam, Cheri. You should go say hi to them.”

 

Charlie jumped up and rinsed her hands, then ran to the front of the penthouse and hugged Castiel around the waist. “Hi, Mr. Milton,” she said, suddenly second-guessing that move.

 

Castiel smiled and patted her on the head. “Hello, Charlie. How was your day?”

 

“I was just telling Dean and Benny about it. Hi, Sam!”

 

Sam bent down and gave her a hug. “Hey, Charlie. Are Dean and Benny in the kitchen?” At Charlie’s nod, he went off in that direction.

 

“How was your day, Mr. Milton?”

 

Castiel gave Charlie a smile and took her hand. “I want to tell you all about it, why don’t you come with me?”

 

They went to Castiel’s study, and he sat next to her on his little sofa.

 

“Wow, this seems serious,” Charlie said, feeling nervous.

 

“It is, Charlie. You see, I’ve grown rather used to having you in the house, and I think Dean, Sam, and Benny have as well. And I have so many rooms, it’s a shame to see them go to waste.”

 

Charlie nodded, baffled as to what he was talking about.

 

“Family was never really something important to me, you see, until you came along,” he continued. “My father was a hard worker, but he spent very little time with my siblings and me. I don’t know what it means to be a family, but since you’ve come into my life, I’ve known what I was missing. Do you see?”  

 

Charlie nodded, but then shook her head. “No?”

 

Castiel sighed. “Charlie, I’ve had the papers signed for temporary custody of you. In a few days, we’re going to have a hearing so I can be your official foster father, and then…and then I should be able to adopt you.”

 

“What?” Charlie felt her heart drop.

 

“Here, I got you a gift too.”

 

“But you’ve already given me…” everything.

 

Charlie looked down at the little blue box tied with white ribbon and unwrapped it, unsure of what her response should be. Inside the box, she found the resolve she needed, though.

 

“A locket.”

 

“Yes, a locket! To replace your broken one. And this is real gold, so it won’t turn green.”

 

Charlie shook her head, tears forming in her eyes as Castiel removed the locket from the box.

 

“No, I can’t…”

 

“Of course you can. And look, there’s an inscription on it.”

 

“No, Mr. Milton, I can’t be your daughter.”

 

This stopped Castiel. “Why not?”

 

Charlie pulled her locket out of her shirt. “Because, this is from my parents. They made a promise they’d return for me. Someday, they’re going to.” Castiel looked so upset and broken that Charlie actually started to cry. “I’m sorry!” she wailed, throwing herself at him. “I love you, sir, and I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I…I can’t…”

 

Castiel wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her tight. “It’s okay, Charlie. I can make it work out. I can be your foster parent only, until we find your real parents. There has to be some sort of record, something we can find out. I have a whole army of lawyers, they’ll find your parents.” He grabbed her by the arms and pushed her upright. “I’ll find your parents, Charlie.”


	5. You're never fully dressed without a smile

“Dean Winchester, you asshole. I have been trying to call you and Mr. Milton for three _fucking_ days!” Dean could picture Miss Harvelle attempting to keep her cool as she whispered violently at him. He liked to think she was in a board room somewhere with lots of important people in suits wandering around. Power suits. He liked that idea immensely. “Mr. Michael Milton wanted publicity for this, Dean. The family needs publicity, and you and Castiel have been practically hiding. The only sightings we have are at the Comicon, and I’ve had to spin those—“

 

“Jo!” Dean interrupted. “We need an interview.”

 

“Damn right you do.” Her voice turned to a normal volume, so Dean now imagined her in a long hallway outside of the boardroom. He figured it had lots of bad lighting and across from a bathroom. He was tempted to ask if it stank. “I have to come by today and prep Castiel for the meeting, and Charlie too. There are ten specific keywords and phrases that we’re using throughout the campaign. I need him onboard!”

 

Dean shook his head and switched the phone to his other hand. “Jo, we’ll do what you want, but Mr. Milton has stipulations.” He ignored Jo’s snort and continued, “There will be one interview with one resource, and whoever it is will make a large donation to the children of the Third Street Orphanage. Clothes, shoes, food, books, what have you. Mr. Milton wants to raise awareness for the other Charlie’s of the world, and he is planning on starting a charity for orphaned children in New York. He will perform the interview as soon as convenient for you, but he also has his own agenda.”

 

Jo sighed. “Of course he does. Well, need I remind you that I run PR for Michael Milton, not Castiel? I appreciate that he might have his own ideas, but ultimately, he agreed to do this for his brother.”

 

“I know, and so does Castiel. He is still willing to help his brother.”

 

“All right. I’ll call you later with the details. And set up Charlie with an Instagram account. Give the news something to see. Goofy pictures of her with you or Castiel or whoever.”

 

Dean didn’t think that sounded like such a good idea, but he agreed. “Fine. I can upload a few pics from Comicon, and she can take some new ones of the house or whatever. Eventually, though, you’ll have to have Michael come here and meet her. Otherwise, it will just look like a publicity stunt to get him elected.”

 

Jo paused on the other end of the phone. “Fine,” she said. “Yes, you’re right. I’ll talk with him.”

 

Dean hung up and turned to Castiel. “It’s set up, sir.”

 

Castiel smiled. “Thank you, Dean.”

 

“I guess you have to learn some of Michael’s catchphrases.”

 

“Yes, I’m sure I do. I’ve heard him say a few things in regards to his campaign, so I think I know where to start. But Charlie is the most important part.”

 

Dean agreed. He didn’t want to give Charlie up, but if he could give her back to her biological parents, then he would be happy.

 

“Jo wants us to set up an Instagram for Charlie, so she can start telling her side of the story with pictures.”

 

They found her in the music room with Kevin, having her second violin lesson. They both gave Castiel and Dean a smile, and Dean picked up Charlie’s tablet and downloaded Instagram onto it, then signed her up under the username @littleorphancharlie.

 

“Now what?” she asked, setting her violin onto a stand and stowing the bow.

 

“Now you take a picture and post it.”

 

Charlie took the tablet and sat on Dean’s lap. “I want you in the picture, Dean. And you, Mr. Milton!”

 

Castiel moved closer to Dean until he was in the picture frame. “You really ought to call me Castiel, Charlie.”

 

“Dean calls you Mr. Milton,” Charlie said.

 

Castiel looked at Dean. “Dean should call me Castiel as well.”

 

Charlie’s first picture was of her smiling at the camera while Dean and Castiel looked at each other, slight blushes tinting their cheeks. 

 

}o{

 

Charlie was dressed by Jo for the interview. A white shirt with a Peter Pan collar under a red short sleeved cardigan, a jean skirt, and black boots that went halfway up her legs, with lots of cool buckles and zippers. She thought she looked like some sort of preppy kid, but she really liked the boots. Some lady came and curled her hair into loose ringlets, and someone else put makeup on her.

 

The interviewer was from People Magazine, and she told Charlie that the magazine would be donating a large sum of money on her behalf to the orphanage. Charlie wanted to tell her that the girls at the orphanage would likely never see any of it, but she wanted to be sweet for Castiel’s sake. She knew this was important for him and his brother, so she smiled sweetly and tried to not be too sarcastic.

 

Of course, the first question would be, “Is it different living here than in the orphanage?”

 

Charlie’s smile was suddenly forced. “Um…well, there are a lot fewer people living here,” she said, hoping she wasn’t giving too much away.

 

“I imagine you like having your own room.”

 

Charlie shrugged. “I miss the noise, actually. And my friends. I hope they get adopted soon. Their names are Krissy and Claire. Please put them in the magazine.”

 

The interviewer smiled, and Dean put his hand on Charlie’s shoulder.

 

“My family’s goal is always to help those in need,” Castiel said. “Michael and I firmly believe that you make your own family through connecting to those in your community. Since Charlie is now a member of my family, her concerns have become my concerns, and Michael’s as well. Because of this, we will champion the cause of every child living at the Third Street Orphanage, and while we don’t place any one child more highly than any other, I personally feel a vested interest in helping Charlie’s friends.”

 

Charlie had no idea what had taken over Castiel. She wanted to ask him if he was possessed by a demon, but she knew he had to say certain things to help his brother win an election. She hoped he had said something that would work. It sounded like gibberish to her.

 

“Charlie, would you like it if your friends were adopted?”

 

Charlie had to bite her tongue again. “It would be great if they could find someone as kind as Castiel. He’s so good to me, and I wish…”

 

Castiel now put his hand on her arm. “I promised Charlie I’d help find her birth parents,” he said. “I don’t know what situation led Charlie’s parents to drop her off at the orphanage, but I’m willing to help them with whatever their difficulties are if they come forward. There will be a monetary reward for anyone who has legitimate information about Charlie’s parents, and I’ve also set up a trust fund for Charlie for when she turns eighteen so that she can go to college.”

 

“That’s so generous, Mr. Milton!”

 

“Yes,” Castiel said, and Charlie felt her heart clench. Castiel was being so nice to her, and she had rejected him. “But nothing is too good for Charlie. My secretary, Mr. Winchester, his family has a saying that “Family doesn’t end with blood.” My feelings for Charlie don’t end in blood. I hope sincerely that we will find her biological family, but I am determined that she will always be a part of my family.” He took Charlie’s hand and smiled at her. “We will never say goodbye, Charlie.”

 

}o{

 

The magazine flew off the shelves when it was released, and Castiel and his household soon found themselves in the middle of a storm, both of people and media.

 

“She can’t stay here,” Dean told Castiel as they looked out the window to the huge crowd on the sidewalk below. Camera crews lined the street, police looked like they were trying to disperse the crowds.

 

“This is the opposite of what I wanted!” Castiel said, turning to Dean and grabbing his arm. “I thought…I don’t know what I thought. I suppose I believed that it would all be civilized, and that soon, we’d get a polite phone call from a very sweet couple who…”

 

“Who gave Charlie up because they had to, were forced to, and they want her back?” Dean finished.

 

“I’m an idiot.”

 

Dean put his hand against Castiel’s cheek and smiled tightly. Castiel opened his mouth to say—or maybe do—something, but then Charlie wandered in and said, “What’s going on?” and they sprang apart quickly. Too quickly. Charlie narrowed her eyes at them. “What are you two doing?”

 

Dean crossed his arms and glared at Charlie while Castiel cleared his throat and tried to grasp at anything. “We were just…discussing…”

 

“…Giving you a present,” Dean said.

 

“Yes!”

 

Charlie looked dubious, but the idea of a gift won out over any suspicion. “What kind of gift?”

 

“Disneyworld!” Dean blurted.

 

“Disneyworld?” Castiel echoed, then realized what Dean was saying. Of course, Disneyworld would get Charlie out of New York and send her to a place where no one would be looking at just one more kid dragging around a harried adult. “Yes, Disneyworld. Dean was going to—“

 

“Get tickets so Castiel can take you while I stay here and sort out a few things,” Dean finished with a wink at Castiel that absolutely did not make his insides turn to jelly.

 

“Disneyworld? Jumpin’ Jellyfish!” Charlie cried, and then ran to Castiel and hugged him. “But wait…can’t you come, Dean?”

 

“Yes, Dean, can’t you come too?” Castiel was terrified of the idea of being in Disneyworld without Dean. What if he lost Charlie? What if he got sick on a ride? What if _Charlie_ got sick on a ride?

 

Dean ruffled Charlie’s hair. “I’ll go with you two next time, okay, squirt?”

 

It took a few hours to get everyone packed, coordinate the private jet, book the hotel room (Dean kept mumbling about giraffes) and settle the park tickets, but soon Dean was navigating Castiel’s TESLA out of the garage and into the street, where the police had to literally herd humans away from the dangerous moving vehicle.

 

“Why are all these people here?” Charlie asked, looking small.

 

Castiel reached out and pulled Charlie against him. “I think there’s a celebrity staying in our apartment building right now.” He was a terrible liar, but Charlie seemed to accept it as truth.

 

Thankfully, there was no paparazzi to worry about at the airport. Castiel’s family plane was kept in a private hangar, away from prying eyes. Dean accompanied them inside, going over an itinerary, handing Castiel print-outs, and giving him instructions on how to use the photo pass that he ordered, extracting a promise that Castiel would get pictures taken, and reminding him of where the Star Wars exhibit would be in Epcot Center.

 

Finally, Dean turned to Charlie and handed her a pre-paid credit card. “If you lose it, they’ll replace it, so no worries, okay? Buy whatever you like, and maybe…” he knelt down a whispered something that made Charlie giggle. “Okay?” he asked at normal volume. Charlie nodded, then threw her arms around his neck. Dean hugged her back. “I’m gonna miss you, kiddo. You take good care of Castiel, promise?”

 

“Promise!”

 

Dean ruffled her hair again, and then kissed her on the forehead as he stood up. “I love you.”

 

Charlie snickered. “I know.”

 

Castiel couldn’t stand it anymore. With determination, he moved into Dean’s personal space and grabbed him by the lapels. Dean looked surprised for only a second before he leaned in and their lips met in their very first kiss. Dean’s lips were soft and full and…

 

“Oh, gross! Ew!”

 

They turned to Charlie, who was making exaggerated gagging noises while pretending to put her finger down her throat. Castiel turned back to Dean, who was rolling his eyes, and then decided that he didn’t care. So he went back in for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to put in a quick note that Castiel and Dean are dismissive of what troubles or feelings could cause a parent or a set of parents to opt to take their child to an orphanage, but the truth is that giving a child up is a really difficult decision. I think they're going to learn that truth soon.


	6. The Sun'll Come Out Tomorrow

A couple walked up to the Third Street Orphanage. The man had dark red hair, the woman was a strawberry blonde. They rang the bell, and Miss Masters answered. She swayed just a bit, and there was a glassy look to her eyes.

 

“Who’re you supposed to be?”

 

“My name is Edward Munch,” the man said, “and this is my wife Victoria.”

 

“We’re here about a baby we left here ten years ago?” The woman said.

 

Miss Masters squinted her eyes at them. “Oh?”

 

“We never meant to leave our little Charlie,” the lady continued, her voice wistful.

 

“Charlie?” Miss Masters practically guffawed. “Oh, like Little Orphan Charlie? Come on, Rooster. If you want to pull that off, you need a lot more than a really bad dye job and a sad story.”

 

Ruby looked crestfallen, but Lou just smirked at her. “Toldja, Rubes. I told you she was who we need.”

 

Miss Masters rolled her eyes, but stepped to the side and let them in. “I’m either not high enough, or too high for this,” she muttered when they passed through the door. As Lou walked by, she pulled the awful wig off of his head, letting his natural strawberry blond breathe. In her office, Miss Masters closed the door tightly and turned a critical eye to her sister. “You’re never going to get away with this. The Miltons are going to put you both through an extensive background check, and you will fail.”

 

Lou took some papers out of his pocket. “I have a buddy who created fake identities for us. Besides, we only need the kid for long enough to get the money, right?”

 

“And when you’re found out? The Milton family has an extensive reach. You think they’ll stop at anything to catch you?”

 

Lou shrugged. “I figure we’ll all be in Buenos Aires by the time Castiel Milton catches wise to our scheme, and when he finds his little girl unharmed, he’ll probably be so grateful to have her back that he won’t come after us at all. Besides, they look clean. What are they going to do? Put a hit out on us?”

 

Miss Masters crossed her arms. “Wouldn’t be the craziest thing I’ve ever heard of.”

 

“Meg, you have to help us,” Ruby cut in. “Please? You probably know more about Charlie than anyone. And we’ll cut you in on the money!”

 

“Okay, first of all, there’s no guarantee of any money. Castiel said in the interview that he’ll help Charlie’s family. No money was ever mentioned. Unless you want to wait and use the kid’s trust fund? I couldn’t do it.”

 

“We’ve already got that planned,” Lou said. “We found a sweet property in Pennsylvania that we’re going to say we’re going to buy. I even put a bid on it in Edward Munch’s name. We’ll act flustered and confused, and have a wire transfer made into an account in the amount of the house.”

 

“A house in Pennsylvania,” Miss Masters said. “Not a penthouse in New York? I thought you wanted big money here.”

 

“It’s a half a million,” Ruby said.

 

“You really think Castiel is just going to hand over half a million to you two yokels,” Miss Masters scoffed. “And none of this really explains why you came to me.”

 

“Well, I figured that anyone who had information about Charlie’s parents, that Mister Milton would be pleased enough to offer a reward to them. And then I figured that you’d probably know something, but you never came forward. It’s been three days, Meg. You know something, and I’d bet you know that Charlie’s parents are never coming for her,” Lucifer said.

 

Meg stared at him for a long time, running her tongue over her lower teeth, making her lower lip bulge as she moved it. And then she smiled. And then she laughed. “He’s smarter than I gave him credit for, Roo.”

 

Ruby smiled. “He’s pretty smart all right.”

 

Meg had been sitting on this secret for a long time. She didn’t like Charlie getting out, didn’t like the thought of her sitting pretty with Castiel Milton. Charlie could get her arrested or worse. Telling anyone what she knew about Charlie would take a huge amount of trust, and she absolutely did not trust her sister or Lou. But she liked the idea of getting a quarter of a million.

 

“Fine, I’ll tell you what I know, but I want half.”

 

“We split it into thirds,” Ruby said.

 

“No,” Meg shook her head. “No, you can’t do this without me. I get half. Be thankful I’m not asking for more.”

 

“It’s okay,” Lou told Ruby. “Half is fair. We’ll be together, right?”

 

Meg wanted to roll her eyes again. Like Ruby and Lou wouldn’t spend all of their money on drugs and fancy cars. “Half,” she reiterated. She figured she could be to Argentina before the neighbors figured out she’d left the orphans all alone.

 

“Half,” Lou agreed.

 

“Fine. Charlie is an orphan. Her parents died eight years ago in a car accident. Charlie wasn’t belted in, she was thrown from the car. She got brought here, and the paperwork got screwed up. I had to figure out how to keep her and her government stipend, so I reported her as a missing Jane Doe to the cops. Had the paperwork filed legally, but no ties to her parents were ever made.”

 

“That’s why Milton hasn’t figured out any information and has gone public,” Lou mused. “There’s literally no paper trail.”

 

Meg moved to the closet. “Charlie has a locket around her neck. She thinks it’s from her parents, but it’s just a bit of cheap junk jewelry that fell apart when she was four. I let her keep half and told her some sob story about how her parents were coming back to her some day with the other half.”

 

“That’s evil,” Lou said, appreciation in his voice. He looked like he was rethinking his choice of Masters’ sister.

 

“Don’t get any ideas,” Ruby muttered, smacking his arm.

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

 

Meg was studiously ignoring them. “I kept the other half of the locket in her shoebox. I figured I’d give it to her when she came of age and could leave.” Meg finally located the box and opened it, pulling out the locket. “This is the only thing I can think of that would tie Charlie to her real parents.”

 

Ruby reached out for it, but Meg lifted it out of reach. “Half, Ruby. I want to hear you say it.”

 

Ruby pouted, but then relented. “Fine. Half. You can have half.”

 

Meg handed the locket over.

 

“We have to work out a story,” Meg said. “You need to figure out something plausible.”

 

“I can do that,” Lou nodded.

 

“And Ruby needs to get rid of that ridiculous wig. Just have your natural hair, Roo. It’s believable.”

 

Ruby pulled the wig off an let her dark hair fall around her shoulders. “Fine.”

 

}o{

 

Charlie had loved Disneyworld. Her favorite had been the Animal Kingdom with the huge tree of life and the Expedition Everest ride that she and Castiel had ridden at least five times. She loved the room that Dean had booked them, with giraffes out their balcony that they could watch in the mornings, and she loved spending time with Castiel. She loved him. A small part of her heart hoped that when they got home, there would be no news of her family.

 

Castiel was thoughtful when it came to Charlie’s experience. He had found out about a Star Wars exhibit in Epcot, and Charlie had gotten her picture taken on a speeder. Charlie had made her first purchase at that point. Mickey ears, one shaped like R2D2, and the other C3P0. She’d had them personalized to herself and Castiel, and she’d been surprised that he’d kept his gold hat on the entire day. She especially loved when the cast members proclaimed that she and Castiel were the ‘droids they were looking for.

 

They texted Dean and Sam regularly, and Dean said he wanted his own hat. Charlie had wanted to text back that he had to come with them next time to get a hat, but then remembered that there would probably not be a next time. Not if they got home and her parents were there.

 

They went home in a car rather than on the plane. It was a fun drive, and Castiel took lots of stops at various attractions along the way. Charlie talked him into buying Dean a stuffed alligator as they were leaving Florida.

 

Back at the apartment, Charlie and Castiel approached Dean slowly. Charlie hoped, feared, didn’t know how she felt.

 

“Well?” Castiel asked Dean, his arm around Charlie’s shoulder.

 

Dean shook his head sadly, and Charlie felt a stab of pain and hope and loss and….she turned away, tears forming in her eyes. “They’re probably dead,” she said. “I always sort of figured…” her hand went to her locket automatically. “I mean, they never came back, and they said they would, so they have to be dead.”

 

“There’s still hope,” Castiel said, kneeling down to embrace her.

 

“Yeah, kid, there’s always hope. Right?” Dean asked.

 

Sam kissed Charlie on the forehead and Dean bent down to say something when a knock came at the front door.

 

Dean frowned. “How did someone get up here?”

 

Sam opened the door, and there stood a man and a woman. Their clothes were a little shabby, but clean.

 

“Are you Mister Milton?” the man asked Sam.

 

Sam frowned. “No. Who are you?”

 

“I’m Edward Munch. I’m here for my daughter.” His eyes fell on Charlie and he moved forward. “Charlie! There she is!”

 

“Charlie!” the woman echoed, then moved forward as though she was going to hug her. Dean caught her, though, and pulled her back.

 

“We don’t know who you two are,” Dean reminded them.

 

Charlie let go of her locket and took a step back, but the lady gasped and said, “Eddie! Look, she still has the locket!”

 

She tried to move forward again, but Dean once again forestalled her.

 

“Vickie darling, let the child have some space. I’m sure they have questions,” Mr. Munch said.

 

“Yeah, like where have you been for the last three days?” Dean said, his voice very forceful.

 

“We’ve been on our way here,” Mrs. Munch said. “I mean, we couldn’t just leave our jobs like that, and we live all the way in Pittsburgh. These things don’t just happen overnight.”

 

“How do you know about the locket?” Dean asked.

 

To everyone’s fascination, Mrs. Munch pulled the other half of the locket from her pocketbook. Charlie stared at the little bit of gold and felt her fate sealed.

 

“I still have questions,” Sam said.

 

“Ask away,” Mr. Munch answered. “We have nothing to hide.”

 

“I’ll go pack,” Charlie said, turning for the stairs.

 

“Want me to help, baby?” Mrs. Munch asked.

 

Charlie turned back to her, trying to find something of her own features in the lady’s face. She was very pretty, but Charlie couldn’t see herself in her. It felt foreign and wrong. Charlie was sure that her mom was going to show up looking just like her. She didn’t feel it was fair to put her own expectations on her mom, though. “No, thank you, though,” she said.

 

“I’ll help,” Dean said, following Charlie up the stairs. It made Charlie happy to have Dean close by.

 

They closed the door to her room, and Charlie opened the closet. It was stuffed with clothes, some of them much too fine for the life the Munch’s seemed to live. “Can we give these clothes back?”

 

“Give them back?” Dean asked, already pulling out a handful of jeans. “Why would you want to do that?”

 

“These people aren’t rich, Dean. They’re not…they won’t feel good about me having all of this. They’ll feel like they have to replace it when I get bigger or if something gets ripped.”

 

“You should take some of it with you,” Dean said. “The rest of it, we can take to the orphanage, okay?”

 

 Charlie nodded. “I’d like that. And can you tell Claire and Krissy that my folks came back?”

 

Dean nodded. “I’ll be sure to let them know. But Charlie, this isn’t goodbye.”

 

Charlie squeezed her eyes shut to keep herself from crying. “They’re probably not going to want me to keep in touch. You know?”

 

Dean pulled Charlie into his arms. “No, no, you’re stuck with us forever, kid. You’re our friend now, and we’re going to keep in touch. Look, I’m going to put your phone in your bag, and I will pay for the bill myself. You will text me once a day.” He lifted her chin so she had to look at him. “Okay?”

 

Charlie nodded. “Okay, Dean. I will. I’ll miss you every day, too.”

 

“We’ll see each other again, I promise.”

 

Charlie nodded, but she couldn’t swallow past the huge lump in her throat.  She followed Dean down the stairs and tried to return the hugs from Sam, Benny, and Castiel. She let her dad take her bag from her. She followed him to the elevator, the feel of her mother’s hand on her shoulder heavy and warm.

 

They led her to an older car in an alley. She didn’t pay attention, didn’t even realize she was sitting next to someone in the backseat until after her father had started the car and drove down the street. It was at a stoplight that she finally looked over and up at the person, a woman.

 

She turned and smiled at Charlie. Charlie screamed.


	7. Yesterday Was Plain Awful

Lucifer Morningstar was indisputably a genius. He had known all his life, known he was special. His dad had split on him when he was a kid, and his mom had relied on Lucifer being clever enough to earn all of the scholarships he needed in order to go to private schools and universities. Michael Milton had been only a year older, but no matter what Lucifer did, in Junior High, he had constantly found himself in Michael’s shadow. When Michael moved onto High School, Lucifer had hoped that his light could finally shine, and it had. He’d won all of the awards, become president of the clubs he’d found worthwhile, and been captain of the Lacrosse team. He’d graduated hoping for great things his freshman year, only to find Michael Milton _there_ at St. Algernon’s Academy, even though Lucifer had been sure he’d been in Sacred Heart the year before.

 

Lucifer had been angry. He’d worked so hard to try and be seen around Michael that it had consumed him. His grades had soared with the effort, but even though they never actually had any of the same classes, he still had never found himself as the recipient of any acknowledgement for his hard work. Even at the science fair in Michael’s senior year and Lucifer’s junior year, Michael had come out victorious despite how much _better_ Lucifer’s experiment had been.

 

Lucifer’s project had been on how insects grew larger with higher oxygen concentration. It had been exquisite. He went to the Natural History Museum and interviewed the entomologists, took pictures of fossils, and his thesis statement was ready for peer review, it was so good. His biology teacher told him he could probably build his PhD project around it.

 

Michael Milton had built a solar cell. It barely powered the laptop computer he’d had it hooked up to, but the officials who had run the competition had taken Lucifer aside and explained that it was Michael’s senior year, and therefore more important that he win, but they really liked his idea, and it was just this one time, okay? He’d win next year, okay?

 

Michael had won loudly and in front of the entire school, but when Lucifer had discovered that it had been Michael’s younger brother, Castiel, who had been the brain power behind the project, the first place prize had been taken from Michael quietly so as not to embarrass him, and he’d still been valedictorian. Lucifer had been livid. He couldn’t believe that Michael had cheated, wondered if he’d been cheating all this time, and yet he kept winning!

 

Now he was about to be a senator, but Lucifer had long ago lost any feeling for Michael, and recognized that Castiel was a true opponent. Castiel hadn’t been like Michael. He’d been fair and intelligent. He hadn’t been loud or tried hard to get his name in lights. He’d been recognized for being himself, and Lucifer had watched with fascination as Castiel’s star had risen.

 

It had been pure coincidence that Lucifer and Castiel had both gone into environmental production. While Lucifer had to build his business from the ground up, though, Castiel had started strong and stayed that way. Castiel had money, and money opened doors.

 

And now Castiel wanted to buy Lucifer’s business when Morningstar Enterprises was floundering due to him not being able to complete the technology for his new solar cells. Something was not jiving in Lucifer’s equations, and the fact that Castiel wanted to buy the business without working technology meant that Castiel knew how to make it work.

 

If Lucifer could figure it out, though, the multi-million-dollar deal he was currently facing with Castiel would turn into a multi-billion-dollar business that Lucifer would never sell. As much as Lucifer respected Castiel, he didn’t respect him a billion dollars’ worth. Besides, Castiel had already been handed his billion. Lucifer was ready to _earn_ his. He was ready to be known. And in the backseat of the car he was driving was the key to getting what he wanted.

 

First, though, he had to unload some baggage.

 

He pulled into an alley just outside of Manhattan and turned to Ruby and Meg. “All right, girls, it’s been real, but it’s time for you to go.”

 

Ruby, bless her, looked stricken. “Lou?”

 

Lucifer took a paper from his breast pocket. “Here’s the number of the bank account where Castiel sent the five hundred thousand. I added enough to make it a full million dollars, which is very generous of me.”

 

“I don’t understand,” said Ruby.

 

“You’re spending a lot of money to get rid of us,” Meg reasoned, and Lucifer wondered for a moment if he hadn’t seduced the wrong sister. Of course, Meg would never have fallen for him. “What’s your beef with Castiel Milton?”

 

Lucifer smirked at her. “It’s none of your business, Meg. It’s time for you to go.”

 

“So you can kill the kid? She’s a brat, but she doesn’t deserve that.”

 

Lucifer turned completely to the backseat. “I’m asking you nicely, Meg.” He pulled his gun out of his holster. “If you don’t get out now, I’m going to shoot your sister, and as much as you pretend that she doesn’t matter to you, I know she does.”

 

Meg hesitated, but she got out, and then pulled the passenger door open and forced her sister out too. When Charlie tried to follow Meg, Lucifer grabbed her by the collar and held her tight.

 

Meg trotted off, pulling her sister by the hand. Ruby looked over her shoulder at the car, her face full of confusion. Lucifer wouldn’t be surprised if they tried to run to Castiel now, so he figured it was time to call him first. After he secured Charlie, of course.

 

He already had this all planned out. He’d rented an old apartment down the alley he’d turned down, and it was easy to abandon the car and hustle Charlie into the building. When he had her locked in the one-room apartment, he searched her for a phone or a tablet that might have a GPS. Not finding anything, he grabbed the phone he’d brought with him, a burner phone that was untraceable, and dialed up Castiel. Charlie slumped on the floor, using her backpack as a cushion. Lucifer watched her as Castiel’s phone rang.

 

“Castiel Milton.”

 

“Castiel? This is Lucifer Morningstar.”

 

There was a pause, and then Castiel said in a very formal tone, “Hello, Mr. Morningstar. How can I help you?”

 

Lucifer smiled at Charlie, who stared back at him blankly. “Well, Castiel, I’d like to make a trade with you. I have something very important to you, and you have something of importance to me.”

 

Castiel paused on the other end of the line. “I don’t understand.”

 

Lucifer knelt next to Charlie and turned on the speakerphone. “Charlie, say hello to Castiel.”

 

Charlie shook her head and Castiel said, “What does Charlie…Charlie? Why do you have my daughter, Mr. Morningstar?”

 

“Charlie, don’t keep your guardian waiting. Castiel wants to talk to you.”

 

Charlie shook her head again, so Lucifer gave her a tap on her cheek. Charlie kicked him in retaliation, so Lucifer slapped her hard and grabbed her by her hair. She had screamed when he slapped her, and now she was whimpering.

 

“I said to say hello to Castiel.”

 

Charlie sobbed a hello.

 

“Don’t hurt her!” Castiel shouted. “Don’t you dare touch her again!”

 

“I don’t want to hurt her,” Lucifer said truthfully. “All I want is to know how to make my solar panel work. You’re a whiz at them, aren’t you, Castiel?”

 

“I will do anything you want, Lucifer. Just return Charlie to me.”

 

Lucifer could hear someone in the background grousing about how they “should have known” something like this was going to happen and smiled to himself as he disengaged the phone call. He liked how helpless that person sounded. He liked the way Charlie whimpered as he held her hair tighter. He liked the way he’d defeated Castiel. It felt good. He’d outsmarted him finally. That was the one thing he’d learned in school. He’d thought it was Michael, but once it came out that it’d been Castiel all along, holding Michael up and doing everything for him to make him look good, that was when Lucifer knew he’d have to find some way to get the upper hand.

 

The funny thing was, Lucifer probably would have let bygones be bygones if Castiel had just left him alone and not tried to acquire Morningstar Enterprises. If Castiel had just let Lucifer figure out how to make the panel work himself, it would have been fine. But no, Castiel had to move out from the shadow, put his neck on the line, and Lucifer couldn’t stand for that. Michael was a blow-hard who could be ignored. Castiel was an actual threat.

 

The name Morningstar needed to be on everyone’s lips when they talked about clean energy. Not Milton.

 

}o{

 

Castiel’s head was spinning. Lucifer Morningstar of all people had Charlie. And he wanted to know how to make the solar panel work? That was what he wanted? That was all?

 

“It sounds too easy,” Castiel said.

 

Dean was too busy trying to pull something up on his tablet to really respond, but Sam and Benny both agreed.

 

“I don’t like it,” Sam said.

 

“What can we do, though?” Benny said. “We have to play nice at first, right?”

 

“Maybe not,” Dean said. “I gave Charlie a phone before she left, and it looks like it’s sitting in one place. Sam, you and me, let’s go.”

 

Dean grabbed his keys, and Castiel stopped him. “I’m coming too.”

 

“Me too,” Benny said. “Can’t leave me behind.”

 

Dean nodded, and then was out the door. Castiel followed close behind, his phone gripped tightly in his hand. He wanted Lucifer to call again. He needed to make sure Charlie was all right.

 

Dean steered the car down an alley, still following the GPS on Charlie’s cell phone (Castiel prayed that Lucifer hadn’t thrown her backpack out the car at some point) and two figures jumped in front of him.

 

“Outta my way!” Dean snarled.

 

“You need us, flyboy,” one of the figures said, and Castiel recognized the awful woman from the orphanage.

 

“You!” Dean growled, opening the door and lunging at her.

 

“Dean, we don’t have time for this!” Castiel said, he and Sam both running to pull Dean off of Miss Masters.

 

Miss Masters pushed her hair out of her face and said, “You need us. We know where he went.”

 

Sam scoffed. He had his hand against her shoulder, pushing her away. Castiel was behind Dean, holding his arms at his side.

 

“We don’t need you,” Sam said. “Just because Lucifer ran off with all the money and you two are now desperate—“

 

“We have the money,” the other woman said. Benny was holding her in place, in case she decided to run. She was dark and small like Miss Masters. Castiel wondered if they were sisters. “It’s not that. You can have it back. We didn’t think he’d…”

 

“He has a gun,” Miss Masters said.

 

Castiel felt faint. Of course he had a gun. He let Dean go, and Dean turned to Castiel and pulled him into a hug.

 

“It’s okay,” Dean said. “We’re almost there. I’m going to beat the crap out of him.”

 

Castiel’s phone rang again, and he answered it right away. “Lucifer?”

 

“Speak of the devil,” Lucifer joked. “Did you get your equations together?”

 

Castiel realized that he hadn’t thought about that at all. “Yes, of course. That’s all you want?”

 

“What else would I want? You realize that me completing the solar panels will render your company obsolete.”

 

Castiel couldn’t imagine anything that mattered less to him. “I don’t care, Lucifer. I want my daughter back.”

 

Lucifer chuckled on the other end of the phone. “The king of capitalism, brought down by a child.”

 

“When and where, Lucifer?” He was growing impatient. Miss Masters and her sister were trying to get them to go down the alley, and they were following reluctantly, though Dean was by his car, wanting to move it somewhere safe.

 

“I’ll text you a location,” Lucifer said and disengaged.

 

Castiel stowed his phone and nodded to Dean, who parked the car up the alley. Sam and Benny were already following the girls up the alley, and Castiel let them go. He wanted Dean beside him for this.

 

They eventually made it to the apartment building, and Miss Masters said, “We watched him carry Charlie in here.”

 

“The GPS on her phone is showing she’s in this vicinity, too, but I can’t exactly pinpoint anywhere else.”

 

“Ruby, do you know anything?” Miss Masters asked.

 

Ruby shook her head. “Meg, I don’t know anything about this. We were supposed to be on our way to Aruba by now.”

 

Sam looked really unimpressed at her, and pulled a stethoscope from his pocket. “We can listen in the rooms.”

 

“Unless he’s torturing Charlie or doing some sort of evil villain monologue, what are we going to hear?” Dean countered. “Besides, where did you get that?”

 

Sam colored. “I just…have it.”

 

Benny chuckled. “Remember that girl he dated who dressed up like a sexy nurse at Halloween?”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes, but Benny’s comment helped make them all a little less tense.

“Maybe he’ll call Cas again,” Sam said. “We can use it.”

 

“I have an idea,” Castiel said, taking out his phone. Sure enough, Lucifer had texted an address to him. He hit the call button, and waited for Lucifer to answer.

 

“What?” Lucifer barked.

 

“I may be late,” Castiel said, motioning to Sam, who was already holding the stethoscope to doors.

 

“This is your daughter, as you say, Castiel,” Lucifer reminded him, his voice bored.

 

“Yes, I realize that, but this is beyond my control. I’m just leaving my office building, and the streets are shut down. Some sort of movie is being filmed right now.”

 

“You have an hour,” Lucifer said, and disengaged once more.

 

Sam shook his head. He hadn’t heard anything on the ground floor, apparently. They started to make their way to the second floor when a young boy poked his head out of an apartment door.

 

“You the police?” he asked.

 

Castiel shook his head and Meg outright laughed.

 

“You have to tell me if you’re the police if I ask,” the boy said.

 

Sam put his finger to his lips and bent down to the boy’s height. “My friend’s little girl was kidnapped. We’re pretty sure the kidnapper brought her here. Have you seen a little redheaded girl with a tall man?”

 

The boy nodded. “Yeah, he went to the empty on three.”

 

Sam slipped the kid some money, and they continued up the stairway. Once on the third floor, Dean turned to Benny, Meg, and Ruby. “Okay, you three go call the cops, right? Tell them to get down here, tell them the whole story.” He pointed at Ruby and Meg and said, “If you both want to stay out of jail yourselves, you’ll do exactly what I say with no shenanigans.”

 

Benny saluted Dean and left with the girls. Dean, Castiel, and Sam all continued up the stairs. Sam pressed his stethoscope to the walls, and then hesitated at one of the apartments.

 

“This one,” he whispered.

 

“How do you know?” Dean asked.

 

Sam shrugged. “It’s the only one without sound coming out.”

 

Castiel nodded. “Break down the door, if you please, Sam.”

 

Sam’s lip twitched, and he nodded, then leaned back and kicked the door, splintering it open in one movement, surprising both Lucifer and Charlie. Lucifer stood and made a move towards Charlie, his hand on his holster, but Dean jumped through the door and tackled him. They hit the floor with a thud as Castiel and Sam went running in. Sam helped Dean secure Lucifer while Castiel ran to Charlie and lifted her up, held her close, and touched everything that he could to assure himself that she was there, in his arms, whole and alive.

 

“I’m sorry,” Charlie sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Castiel.”

 

Castiel stroked her hair. “No, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I should have protected you.”

 

Dean was there then, also touching Charlie, taking both her and Castiel into his arms, and saying something soothing that didn’t really sound like words. Castiel surrendered Charlie to Dean’s embrace and approached Lucifer, still trying to figure out _why_.

 

“I guess you win,” Lucifer said, his voice strained due to Sam’s knee in his back, and the hold Sam had on his arms. “My company is yours after all.”

 

Castiel stared at him. “That was seriously what all of this was about? The company? The solar panel? This is all you truly care about?” 

 

Lucifer rolled his eyes as much as a man in his position could do and said, “I still can’t believe you were willing to give it all up for a snot-nosed kid.”

 

“I suppose you would have let her die,” Castiel said.

 

“You’re so weak,” Lucifer muttered.

 

“And yet you are the one on the floor, with Sam Winchester sitting on your back,” Castiel pointed out. “Not me.”

 

“Fair point,” Lucifer conceded. “Now what?”

 

“Yeah,” Sam said. “Now what?”

 

Castiel looked over at Dean and Charlie, then back at Sam and Lucifer. “I suppose that we should wait quietly for the police to arrive. Or I could take Charlie out to where Benny is waiting, and have absolutely no idea what the Winchesters may do to you in here for the next five minutes.”

 

Dean put Charlie down and moved to Castiel’s side. “I like that idea.”

 

“I’m generally non-violent,” Sam said, “but Cas’s idea sounds good.”

 

Lucifer scoffed. “Your lawyer and personal assistant? I’m terrified. Really.”

 

Sam flipped Lucifer over and pulled his fist back just as several members of the SWAT team came rushing in. Sam actually looked upset at not being able to land his blow. After that, everything was chaos for a very long time.

 

Charlie was taken from Castiel by an officer, and a CPS worker interviewed her for a very long time. Then Castiel was interviewed by the same person. An ambulance came and took Charlie away, and Castiel had to give a statement to the police, as did Dean, Benny, Sam, Meg, and Ruby.

 

Sometime around four in the morning, Lucifer was finally booked on charges of kidnapping and child endangerment. Castiel was once again interviewed by CPS, but all of his paperwork had been in order, and in the end, he was allowed to go to the hospital and pick up Charlie.

 

Of course, by the time they left the hospital, the press had already been called, but Castiel found he didn’t care. Let them take pictures of him. This was who he was, with Charlie in one arm, hugging his neck, and his other hand wrapped around Dean’s.

 

At the apartment, Sam and Benny went off to their separate rooms, but Dean followed Castiel to Charlie’s room, where they put her to bed and then each took a spot on either side of her.

 

“Castiel?”

 

He stroked her hair out of her face and smiled down at her. “Yes?”

 

“Are you going to send me back to the orphanage now?”

 

“Why would you think that?”

 

“Yeah, you’re here for the long haul, kiddo,” Dean said.

 

“I caused so much trouble,” she said.

 

Castiel shook his head. “You didn’t do anything on purpose, Charlie. I made you an offer. I’ll adopt you, if you’ll let me. I want to be your father.”

 

Charlie gave him a calculated look. “What about Dean?”

 

“Dean wants to be your father too,” Dean said, and Castiel smiled at him.

 

“I want that too,” he said.

 

Charlie was quiet for a moment, and then she said, “Yeah. I want it too.”

 

“Then that settles it,” yawned Castiel. He kissed Charlie on the forehead, then grabbed Dean’s hand and kissed it.

 

They fell asleep together, clasped hands resting on Charlie’s stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end of the story. I will add an epilogue soon. Thanks to everyone who's commented. I'm so glad this story resonated! It seems that I'm not the only one who loves this musical.


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